Blue Eyed Bagginses
by Melylott S. Banks
Summary: Bilbo and Frodo's first year together is filled with excitement, trouble, and fun. Guest starring various Gamgees, Tooks, and Brandybucks. COMPLETE
1. Prologue

Blue Eyed Bagginses  
  
A/N: Chapter one coming soon! I'm writing as I go, so bear with. Reviews more than welcome. ^^  
  
Prologue  
  
The first thing Bilbo Baggins noticed about his nephew were his eyes.  
As Primula placed the newborn Hobbit in his arms, Bilbo was overcome with love for the tiny thing. His head was covered in a shock of dark curls, and his skin was pale and rosy. Bilbo had never seen a baby so beautiful, and he was in awe. As Primula, curls damp from labor, and Drogo, beaming with pride, looked on, and the midwife impatiently tapped her foot, Bilbo felt as if he and the tiny babe were the only ones in the room. He ran a finger along Frodo's soft cheek, and was rewarded with a contented smile and gurgle.  
  
"Primmie-love. I think little Frodo just smiled," Bilbo finally spoke. Primula just laughed at her favorite cousin, locks of dark hair falling over her ears.  
  
"Nonsense, Bilbo. Babies don't smile when they are just born. He's far too little," but she didn't sound wholly convinced. Primula loved the old Baggins very much, but sometimes he had the oddest notions, she thought to herself.  
But Drogo just grinned, blue eyes shining. "I think he did smile Primula." He squeezed his wife's slender hand. "He seems to be taking a liking to you, Bilbo," he continued. "I think you two will get along just fine."  
  
"What do you say, little one? Will you put up with this odd old Baggins?" Bilbo's question was answered by tiny fingers squeezing his larger one, and his heart swelled with love for the tiny bundle in his arms. He looked into those sky colored eyes, so different from his own gray- blue ones, but exactly like Drogo's. Unusual for a Hobbit, true, but the Bagginses never fit into anyone's mold in their history. And that was a good thing.  
  
He somehow knew Frodo would grow up to do great things someday. Bilbo knew he would be there to help the boy along the way, however he could. He had never been good with children, but her felt this would be different, somehow. This lad had...spirit. A Baggins with spirit. His little Frodo.  
  
As Frodo closed his eyes, and let out a contented little yawn, he placed the boy back in his mother's arms to let Drogo and Primula be alone for a time. He knew sooner or later the room would be filled with Brandybuck aunts, uncles, and other relations, all clamoring to see the beautiful lad for themselves. But he had had his time alone with Frodo, and that was enough.  
  
His beautiful, beautiful, little lad, he thought, as a smile spread across his face. His lad with the bright blue eyes. His Frodo. 


	2. Both Kinds of News

Both Kinds of News  
  
A/N: This chapter takes place about 20 or so years after chapter one. Wow, you guys had to wait sooooooo long to find out what happens next. :D *laughs at own bad joke* Enjoy. ^^ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"My my, Frodo-love. You're up early today." Esmerelda Brandybuck, Frodo's favorite aunt and known to everyone as Esme, sat down next to her nephew at the long table in the center of the dining room at Brandy Hall. Frodo was gobbling up his breakfast at what would be an alarming rate for anyone but a Hobbit. He looked up at her and grinned, and Esme smiled back at him. The poor lad had an extremely difficult time adjusting to life after his parents' drowning. An already shy boy, he became even more introverted in the months following the death; but as the years passed he had begun to heal. However, Esme knew the hurt was always there.  
  
She sighed to herself as she watched Frodo eat. She loved him like a son, and everyone in the Hall cared about him deeply, but she had her own little Merry to look after. The other families who lived in Brandy Hall all had their own children to look after, as well. She tried to give Frodo all the attention she could, but she knew he needed someone to care for him, and him alone. She also knew he hurt often about this, but there was nothing she could think of to do. Turning her attention to her nephew, she noticed he was waving a fork excitedly, and laughed.  
  
"Auntie Esme, Bilbo is coming today! He's going to take me to Bag End, and he says he has some important news for me!" He said brightly, beaming at Esme with excitement in his blue eyes.  
  
"That's wonderful, Frodo. I'm sure you two will have a lovely time." Esme smiled warmly, but inside she was surprised. Lately, as everyone had become busy preparing for little Merry's birthday, Frodo had become more and more withdrawn. His love for the lad was evident, but Esme could tell he was feeling left out, even more lost in the hustle and bustle of Brandy Hall than ever.  
  
"When is he arriving, dear? I've missed him, it will be good to see that silly old Baggins again," Esme laughed. She loved Bilbo very much, and being a Brandybuck, his oddities didn't bother her at all.  
  
After finishing what little was left of his meal, Frodo responded.  
  
"He's coming..." he began, but was cut off when he was swept up into a hug from behind. Bilbo's hug, to be precise.  
  
"Bilbo!" Frodo exclaimed, returning the hug and snuggling into the old Hobbit's arms. "I've missed you so much Uncle," he whispered.  
  
"I've missed you too, lad," Bilbo responded, ruffling the boy's dark locks. Frodo giggled, and sat back down, on Bilbo's lap.  
  
"What about me?" Esme stood up, a playful grin on her lips. "Aren't I deserving of a hug too?"  
  
Bilbo chuckled heartily. "Of course, dear, I could never forget the incomparable Esmerelda Brandybuck!" She leaned over and was rewarded with a kiss on the cheek.  
  
"As much as I'd love to stay Esme, Frodo and I have an important day ahead of us, isn't that right lad?" Frodo nodded, and slid down from Bilbo's lap, feet hitting the highly polished wooden floor. He teetered, and fell backwards into Esme's arms.  
  
"Frodo, you must be more careful, you clumsy lad!" She said mock sternly, helping him up.  
  
"I'm sorry Auntie Esme," he murmured. Almost automatically, Esme regretted her words. Frodo was a very sensitive lad, and often took intended humorous remarks the wrong way.  
  
"Oh, I was only kidding, Frodo-love. Please don't be upset." She squeezed his arm, and he smiled.  
  
"Well," Bilbo interrupted, "I'm so sorry, Esme my dear, but Frodo and I must be going. We have some very important business to take care of!" Esme gave him a quizzical look as they said their goodbyes and walked out of the dining hall.  
  
"I wonder what that old Baggins is up to now..." she wondered aloud, as noise of Hobbits eating and talking continued all around her.  
  
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Frodo and Bilbo were in the cart on their way to Bag End. Bilbo offered no hints about his big announcement, regardless of Frodo's constant good- natured pestering. Later, sitting down for elevensies, he hadn't yet divulged, and Frodo was growing impatient.  
  
"So," said Frodo, contentedly munching on an apple. "You said you had something to tell me, Uncle Bilbo?" Frodo gave him a sly look.  
  
"Why yes, lad. I do have some news for you." Bilbo surprised Frodo by speaking in a serious tone, his expression unreadable.  
  
"What--What kind of news, Uncle Bilbo? Good news...Or bad news?" Frodo was now nervous. Bilbo had said his announcement was important, but what if he meant that in a bad way? Was that why he had put off telling Frodo all day?  
  
"Well, both kinds of news, actually. Which would you like to hear first?" Bilbo cut Frodo another slice of brown bread, and buttered it for him. "The good, I should think," Frodo responded.  
  
"All right, Frodo," Bilbo began slowly, "you would say we get along well, don't we?" Frodo nodded, confused. "And," he continued, "you enjoy visiting me here at Bag End, don't you?" Frodo was not sure why Bilbo was asking him these questions, but he tried to answer the best he could.  
  
"Uncle, Bag End is like a second home to me. More of a home than Brandy Hall," he finished quietly.  
  
Bilbo knew now he was ready to make his big announcement.  
  
"Then you had better come live here, Frodo my lad," he said, feigning a straight face, "and then we can celebrate our birthday-parties comfortably together."  
  
"Uncle Bilbo..." Frodo wasn't quite sure what he was hearing. What Bilbo said next let it finally sink in.  
  
"Frodo-love, if you'd agree, I would like to adopt you."  
  
In the next few seconds Bilbo was engulfed in an almost choking embrace, quite surprising from someone as small as Frodo. Three teacups were broken, and a whole basket of apples had fallen on the floor. Bilbo didn't even notice.  
  
"So," he whispered, "I take that as a yes?" Bilbo was surprised to see happy tears were pouring from Frodo's large blue eyes.  
  
"Thank you Bilbo, so much." He sniffed, smiling through the tears. Bilbo, who felt like crying himself now, wiped Frodo's eyes with a pocket- handkerchief. He had no idea how lonely Frodo had been feeling at Brandy Hall, he had simply suggested something he thought would make them both happy. That much, he could see, was true.  
  
In a few minutes, it seemed Frodo had fallen asleep in Bilbo's lap. Carefully picking up the boy, Bilbo carried him over to his favorite large chair by the fire, and tucked a blanket around his tiny frame. He was surprised by how light the tweenager was.  
  
"Well," Bilbo thought to himself, "if he's going to live with me, we'll just have to fix that!" He was torn by his thoughts by a tiny voice.  
  
"Uncle?" Frodo blinked, looking up at his Uncle form where he was curled up on the large chair.  
  
"Yes, my lad?"  
  
"What was the bad news?"  
  
"Oh, that," Bilbo laughed. "Well, I'm afraid I'm all out of seed cake!"  
  
Frodo smiled, relieved, closed his eyes, and went back to sleep. Bilbo gave his nephew a kiss on the forehead, and quietly left the room.  
  
*********************************************************** Endspeak:  
  
Well, I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! ^_^  
  
Just a note, Bilbo's line about them celebrating their birthday-parties comfortably together is from The Fellowship of the Ring. Chapter One: A Long-Expected Party, page 29, Houghton Mifflin hardcover three book set, movie edition, to be precise. ^^  
  
Sooooooo. That's it. Be quiet when you leave, Frodo is still asleep. *Shhh* ;) And a happy Rosh Hashanah to all ya Jewish ficcers out there. Happy New Year! 


	3. Blueberries and Blue Butterflies

Chapter Two---Blueberries and Blue Butterflies Hello all! Before I kick off chapter two, I'd like to thank Hermione Eveningfall for Bilbo's nickname for Frodo. *hug* Thanks, girl. ^^ I no own, you no sue. ;)  
  
Also, a little reviewer response: Arwen Baggins: Oh, Drogo and Primmie don't care about that. Bilbo is just calling Frodo "his" lad as a term of endearment, something you will notice in the book.  
  
Also, I was planning from the beginning to skip right to Frodo's adoption. There are plenty of wonderful stories about Frodo's life at Brandy Hall, but I plan to make this mainly a Frodo-Bilbo story. I'd love to see YOUR take on that portion of his life, though!  
  
Please send your Oma my best wishes for her full recovery.  
  
????: Thank you for being such a loyal reviewer, and congrats on your new baby brother! I'm sure he's adorable. ^^  
  
Shirebound: Thank you for your reviews, and for pointing out my bad spelling. ^_^ Hee.  
  
MLynnBloom: Frodo thanks you for the goodnight kiss, and sends a hug your way. :D  
  
And now, on with the show!  
  
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It had been two weeks since Bilbo's big announcement of his plan to adopt Frodo. The idea had been met with surprise and some speculation from many of the residents of Brandy Hall, but Esme and Saradoc had agreed it was what was best for the lad in the long run, and they were both happy for him. Frodo himself was still settling in, but having stayed at Bag End many times he was already pretty comfortable. Bilbo was doing everything he could to make the transition easy for the boy, and was spending as much time as he could with him. Frodo was very shy, and he preferred the company of his beloved uncle to that of lads his own age, although he missed his cousin little Merry terribly. Try as he might, Bilbo was having trouble getting Frodo to come out of his shell.  
  
As for Bilbo himself, he had found taking care of his nephew was quite easy. He rarely asked for anything from his Uncle, but Bilbo knew he would give the boy whatever he wanted if he did. Frodo was so mature and quiet for his age, sometimes Bilbo forgot the lad was only a tween. Even the way Frodo dressed was mature. He preferred deep maroons, dark blues, and velvets to the simple, rustic patterns and colors the other children wore.  
  
One beautiful morning in spring, Bilbo was overtaken by a desire to get some fresh air after being holed up in his study writing for most of the wee hours. Frodo had been sleeping late, and had just woken up when Bilbo began making breakfast.  
  
"Hullo Uncle," he yawned, rubbing sleep out of his eyes, as he padded into Bag End's sunny kitchen. His dark hair was still messy and stuck out at all angles, and he wore an oversized silk nightshirt that appeared to hang on his tiny frame. Bilbo smiled at the sight of him.  
  
"Good morning, my lad! Breakfast is ready! I made hotcakes, just how you like them."  
  
"With blueberries?"  
  
"Of course." Uncle and nephew grinned to each other, sat down, and began to eat breakfast. To Bilbo's delight, Frodo got through two small stacks of pancakes. In his opinion, the lad was far too thin for a Hobbit, and didn't eat nearly enough for a growing tween. As Frodo poured syrup on hotcakes, he smiled shyly and said quietly, "Thank you so much for letting me live with you Uncle Bilbo. I really do love it here."  
  
"It was my pleasure, lad." Bilbo was touched. Frodo was such a caring soul, although sometimes too much for his own good. He tended to care for others first and put himself last.  
  
"But now he finally has someone to look out for him alone," Bilbo thought to himself as Frodo munched away happily. "He has me."  
  
***************************************************************  
  
After breakfast, Frodo helped Bilbo clean up the kitchen. When they were done, Bilbo suggested they take a hike.  
  
"Oh, can we Bilbo? That sounds like fun." Frodo took his Uncle's hand.  
  
Bilbo chuckled. "Of course, my boy. Let's get going. We'll be back by second breakfast, I should think. I've wanted to get some fresh air, anyhow."  
  
In a few minutes, Bilbo and Frodo were ready to go. Frodo had changed into his clothes, and Bilbo packed a snack for them along the way. Walking out of Hobbiton, Frodo noticed a group of boys playing tig. They were laughing loudly, and they all looked very big and strong. Among them, Frodo picked out Falco Boffin and Lotho Sackville. Lotho saw Frodo, and yelled something his way that caused the other boys to laugh. Frodo sighed, and continued walking.  
  
"What is it lad?" Bilbo asked, concerned. He put his hand on his nephew's shoulder, and Frodo looked up at him, eyes wet with unshed tears.  
  
"It's, it's just that dreadful Lotho Sackville-Baggins. He's always saying rude things about me. And he's saying things about you, as well!"  
  
"What is he saying?" Bilbo sat down next to Frodo, who had stopped walking and taken shelter under a tree.  
  
"He says you're cracked, Bilbo. And that I'm cracking," Frodo responded.  
  
"My lad, the next time he talks to you like that, tell him you're cracking, and proud of it! I've heard every name in the Shire called to me in my time, and it just isn't worth it to pay attention. You know, and I know, what they're saying isn't true, so why not enjoy it a little, hmm?"  
  
"Thank you Uncle. I'll try that." Frodo smiled a bit, and Bilbo patted his shoulder. "I know I shouldn't listen...It's just...I don't mind so much what they say about me...But I don't like to hear what they say about you. They should respect you, Uncle!" He exclaimed, his usually placid tone tinged with anger.  
  
"I know, Frodo. I know. And I thank you. But let me tell you something. I've known Lobelia and Otho all my life, and Lotho since he was born. And one thing I've figured out is this: they're never going to change. They are nasty, rotten Hobbits, and we just have to ignore them, all right?"  
  
"All right," Frodo nodded, his mood clearly brightened. "Let's keep going, now. I'm starting to get hungry!"  
  
Bilbo laughed, and stood up, following his nephew down the old dirt path.  
  
The two Hobbits continued walking down the wooded path, talking, but generally enjoying each other's company in companionable silence, punctured only by Frodo's occasional sneezing from the flowers that surrounded them.  
  
"My poor lad," Bilbo laughed to himself as he handed Frodo a handkerchief, "he really doesn't have the hardiest of noses."  
  
About halfway down the path, Frodo noticed what looked like a shining blue glint in the air, and he pointed to Bilbo excitedly.  
  
"Look Bilbo! It's a butterfly! Isn't it beautiful?" Frodo began to chase after it, laughing.  
  
Bilbo smiled. Frodo was usually so serious and mature, and it was nice to see him have moments of innocent, childlike wonder.  
  
"It is beautiful, silme," Bilbo agreed, using his special pet name for Frodo*. "Its wings are the same color as your eyes. Bilbo pointed to the butterfly, which was hovering over a bright orange flower. Its wings were iridescent, and when the sunlight struck them the appeared a bright, pure sky color.  
  
"I'm going to follow it, and explore some more. May I, Uncle?" Frodo asked eagerly.  
  
"Of course. I'm just going to be over there, reading a bit. Don't go where I can't see you from there, all right?" Frodo nodded and ran off, waving to his uncle as he went. Bilbo walked over to his spot by the tree, opened his book, and began to read.  
  
A few minutes later, however, he decided to close his eyes for a nap. The bright sunlight dappled through the trees was making him drowsy, and before he drifted off, Bilbo swore it would only be for a little while.  
  
"Frodo is still where he was five minutes ago. Nothing can possibly happen," he reasoned as he began to doze deeply.  
  
***************************************************************  
  
Bilbo yawned and stretched as he awoke.  
  
"Ahhhh. How refreshing. I am hungry now, however. I'll just get Frodo and we can have our snack," he thought, looking around for his nephew.  
  
After he had looked once quickly, and then again, Bilbo realized something was amiss. He began to panic, searching everywhere for Frodo, but to no avail.  
  
"Sticklebacks. Where is that lad?" He shouted to no one. "Frodo, where are you? It's Bilbo!" He was now frantic, and desperate.  
  
After what seemed like hours of searching, Bilbo sat down under his tree once more, head in his hands.  
  
"How could you be so stupid, Bilbo Baggins! Your lad is out there in the woods, all alone, and it's no one's fault but your own. How could you be so stupid..."  
  
Bilbo put his head in his hands, and began to cry.  
  
TBC...;)  
  
*silme means "starlight" in Elvish 


	4. All Who Wander Are Not Lost But Most Are

Chapter 3---All Who Wander Are Not Lost (But Most Are)  
  
Sorry about some grammatical and spelling errors in the last chapter, I was kind of rushed before I posted it, and my MSWord was all screwy. :P Bilbo didn't put his head in his hands twice, obviously. ;)  
  
As always, reviews and thoughts more than welcome. ^^  
  
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Frodo had been wandering and exploring for hours at his leisure, although he didn't realize it. He had given up chasing the butterfly long ago, and was simply enjoying the lush scenery that surrounded him. It wasn't until the sun began to set that he came out of his dreamy trance and got his bearings.  
  
"Oh, dear," he thought to himself, "I don't know where...where am I? I can't see Bilbo anymore...What have I done?" Frodo began to chew his nails madly, as he sat down and tried to think of a plan.  
  
"What should I do? Face it Frodo Baggins, you're lost. Bilbo is nowhere to be seen; you have no food, nowhere to sleep, nothing familiar in sight!" He sighed, slumping to the ground.  
  
"Not to mention, these dreadful flowers are everywhere!" He sniffled in frustration, trying to find a patch of grass not covered in blooms. Sighing, he resigned to the shelter of a large oak, as he tried to keep his eyes open.  
  
"I've been walking all day, mmmm, so dreadfully tired; a little nap won't hurt. What have I got to lose..." Before he knew it, the tiny lad was curled up in a ball, asleep. Frodo snored gently as the sun went down, unbeknownst to his frantically searching Uncle.  
  
**********************************************************  
  
"Goldie, look at these! They'll be perfect for the stew," Sam Gamgee said happily, running along in the fields with his younger sister Marigold. They were collecting herbs and vegetables for their mother, Bell.  
  
As they slowed to a stroll and walked along the thin dirt path, Goldie suddenly let out a yelp.  
  
"What is it, Goldie?" Sam asked. He couldn't see anything from where he was standing, and was quite confused.  
  
"It's--its--look, Sam!" Goldie's chubby finger pointed and waved madly at the spot in the distance.  
  
As the more logical of the two, Sam thought Goldie could possibly be letting her imagination run away with her, even though it was something he tended to do as well. But he knew that his sister's fantasies did not usually consist of things that would cause her to be scared, so he decided to take a closer look. Leading Goldie by the hand, Sam walked over to the area she seemed so excited about.  
  
"See here, see, Sam? It's a body!" Marigold cried when they got close enough, jumping around nervously. Sam gasped.  
  
"Do you think it's---," she began, but Sam shook his head, ruffling Goldie's amber curls.  
  
"Of course, not, you silly duck. He, she, whoever it is, is just deep asleep. I think..." Sam walked gingerly forward, as until now he and Goldie had been keeping their distance. The figure was now clearly visible as a living, sleeping Hobbit, and the two siblings breathed a collective sigh of relief. As they got even closer, Sam was astounded. This was the palest Hobbit lad he had ever seen, with skin like alabaster. His hair was dark brown, and messy, with various leaves and blades of grass in it that stuck out at odd angles. Even asleep, Sam noticed he seemed unusual, almost Elvish looking (he imagined).  
  
Goldie, who had calmed down and was now in a take charge mood, ignored her brother's protests and poked the sleeping lad with a long stick.  
  
"Goldie, don't! You'll hurt him!" Sam groaned, head in his hands. She just shrugged.  
  
"He's still asleep. It didn't even stir him," she mused. "Our talkin' isn't waking him up either. Maybe we should shout in his ear." She giggled madly, and Sam couldn't help but laugh as well. Her suggestions were needless however, because right at that moment the sleeping lad opened his eyes and looked around blearily.  
  
"Oh," he yawned, "what, what's going on? Where am I?" He thought for a minute, his mind still fuzzy with sleep. Then he remembered.  
  
"Bilbo," he thought. "I must find Bilbo. I remember now. We were on a hike, and I wandered off. Well, I'm still lost, and I don't know what to do...The last I remember, I was taking a short nap..." Frodo's brain then fully jolted awake. "I've slept for hours!" He then turned, and noticed the two young Hobbits staring curiously at him.  
  
"H--hello there. I didn't notice you there, I'm so terribly sorry. Please forgive me," Frodo said shyly. "My name is Frodo Baggins, and I suppose you're wondering why I'm under this tree.  
  
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In a few minutes, the Gamgees and the young Baggins were properly introduced. Sam was still in awe of the unusual lad, and let Goldie do most of the talking. She was delighted to discover that Frodo now lived at Bag End with Bilbo, as she had taken an immediate liking to him. Sam was surprised at how friendly and cheerful he was, and felt warm and happy in his presence. After formalities were aside, Frodo informed Goldie and Sam of his predicament.  
  
"Oh, we can help you, Mr. Frodo!" Goldie exclaimed. We know the way back to Bag End from here, isn't that right, Sam?" She questioned her older brother, who nodded and blushed.  
  
"Thank you so very much Miss Gamgee," Frodo said happily, kissing her on the hand. Goldie giggled.  
  
"Bilbo must be worried sick. And I confess, I was too," he sighed as the three Hobbits walked along towards Hobbiton. "But thanks to you two, I think it will be all right now," Frodo smiled broadly, reviling a tiny gap between his teeth. "I only hope my Uncle is not too angry."  
  
Sam decided to speak up. He hardly knew Frodo, but innately wanted to put his worries at ease.  
  
"Mr. Bilbo won't be a bit mad sir. He always talks about you, and when he does he seems so happy. I'm sure he's only glad you're all right. You comin' to Bag End was all he could talk about for weeks!"  
  
"Thank you, Samwise, I think you're right. I feel much better." Frodo said quietly, squeezing the boy's hand, as Goldie skipped along happily. Sam beamed and puffed out his chest in pride, which caused Frodo to laugh, a soft, melodious sound that Sam realized he wanted to hear often.  
  
"Um..." he began feeling suddenly shy; "Beggin' your pardon, Mr. Frodo, but you can call me Sam. All my friends do." He stared at the ground and shuffled his curl-topped feet.  
  
"Sam," Frodo replied, "I would love to be your friend, if you would have me." He smiled at Sam who laughed and nodded.  
  
"What about me?" Goldie teased. Frodo ruffled her hair.  
  
"And you as well Marigold Gamgee." Goldie smiled, and continued her work of picking flowers and putting them in the wicker basket she carried.  
  
Frodo suddenly let out a loud sneeze, which caused Goldie and Sam to jump about a foot in the air. He sniffed, and laughed.  
  
"These dratted allergies..." Frodo muttered, looking for a handkerchief and coming up short. "Bilbo wouldn't be happy about that!" He laughed to himself.  
  
Sam handed him a woven linen handkerchief, suddenly embarrassed that he did not have something nicer. Frodo was such a respectable Hobbit, and was probably used to pocket-handkerchiefs of silk, at the least. He let out a tiny, inaudible sigh. "Bless you, Mr. Frodo," He said politely.  
  
"Thank you, Sam," Frodo replied, blowing his thin, pointed nose.  
  
"Are you ill, Mr. Frodo?" Goldie asked with concern, and he shook his head.  
  
"I'm simply allergic to everything it seems." Frodo made a face, and Goldie laughed. By this time the trio had reached Hobbiton and were nearing Bag End. As soon as Frodo came in sight of the green door, he ran wildly past the Gamgees and knocked on the door. Bilbo answered it, and Frodo embraced his uncle tightly.  
  
"Oh, Uncle, I'm so sorry. I got lost, and, I didn't mean to..." Bilbo simply shushed Frodo, and rubbed his back soothingly.  
  
"It's all right, silme. We have time for explanations later. I'm just so, so relieved you're all right, my boy. I was..."  
  
"...worried sick?" Frodo finished for him, and Bilbo chuckled despite himself. He hugged his nephew tighter, and neither let go for a long time. 


	5. The Need for Friends and Handkerchiefs

Chapter Four---The Need for Friends and Handkerchiefs  
  
Dedicated to Banba McCuill, who unconsciously encouraged me to keep  
writing. ^_^  
***  
  
Bilbo invited the Gamgees over for tea, and Frodo explained how he had gotten lost and they had "rescued" him. Both children were quite embarrassed by the praise they received from Bilbo, whom they regarded with the utmost respect.  
  
Bilbo himself couldn't get over how happy he was to see his dear nephew safe at home. He worried endlessly about the poor lad, alone in the woods without food or shelter, but he was proud to see Frodo had come out just fine, albeit incredibly hungry, Bilbo noted with a laugh to himself, as he watched the lad devour another biscuit.  
  
In addition, he was happy to see how well Frodo got on with the Gamgees, especially Sam. He had hoped the two boys would like each other, and was delighted at their becoming fast friends.  
  
When tea ended (it had run surprisingly long and night was falling already), and Goldie and Sam bid their new friend goodbye. Frodo sat down with Bilbo on his big velvet easy chair, with the fire crackling in the hearth, letting off a pleasant smell of smoke and illuminating the dark room. It was an unusually cold night for spring, and Bilbo didn't want his nephew to catch a chill.  
  
"I was so lucky they found me," Frodo sighed, as Bilbo stroked his dark mop of curls. "I was so worried I would never see you again," he continued earnestly, looking up at his Uncle with heartbreakingly blue eyes.  
  
"I know my dear boy. I am just glad you are back to Bag End, safe and sound, where you belong." Frodo smiled at Bilbo's words, then whispered quietly, "I was afraid you would be angry, Uncle. I ruined our day together, and I made you worry so...I was afraid you wouldn't want me to stay with you anymore. I was afraid you would think I was a nuisance. Frodo sunk deeper into the chair, chewing absently on an already stubby fingernail.  
  
Bilbo was aghast at his nephew's words. "How could you ever think that, silme?" He said tenderly. "Why would such a thing ever cross your mind? Frodo, listen to me. You know I want nothing more than for you to be happy here. I also must confess, it's lonely at Bag End without you around, lad. You will never, ever be a nuisance to me. Do you hear?" Frodo nodded and looked relieved. He closed his eyes and leaned against Bilbo's chest, breathing in the scent of tealeaves and pipeweed, and suddenly felt comforted.  
  
"I'm so glad to be here with you Uncle Bilbo," he said softly before drifting off.  
"I know, my lad, I know," replied Bilbo, as he carried the tweenager off to his bed.  
  
Watching him sleep, his thin, pale form illuminated by his bedside candle, Bilbo suddenly realized how appropriate the name "silme" was for him. "Sleep well, my little starlight," Bilbo whispered, as he blew out the candle, and all became dark.  
  
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The next day, Frodo looked on his bedside table and realized he still had the small woven handkerchief Sam had given him. As he told Bilbo, the older Hobbit suggested that they simply go to town and buy the young Gamgee a whole new box. "And a few for my poor lad as well," Bilbo chuckled to himself as he watched his nephew sneeze, and blow his already red nose. Frodo agreed it was the least they could do, and the two Bagginses set out for Hobbiton together.  
  
After walking for a bit, Bilbo and Frodo reached the bustling marketplace in the center of Hobbiton. The sky was sunny and cloudless, and the weather warm, a nice change form the unusual chill of the night before. Bilbo and Frodo noticed the market was much more crowded than usual, and tried to navigate their way carefully through the crowds. Frodo held Bilbo's hand as he snaked past a particularly large group of people, but the lad tripped, and fell to his knees on the dirt road, banging into an old Hobbit maid in a ridiculous flowered hat who stomped away in a huff. Dust clouds engulfed the tiny tween, and he coughed as Bilbo helped him up.  
  
"Are you all right, my lad?" He asked with concern. Frodo nodded, and laughed.  
  
"I suppose I just haven't grown into my feet yet!" He smiled, accepting his Uncle's hand as they walked into the fabric store.  
  
Violet Proudfoot's Fabrics and Gifts sold all sorts of bits and bobs, form handkerchiefs and linens, to dresses and hairpins. The middle-aged Hobbit maid took great pride in her store, always keeping it clean and running it efficiently. She had a special spot in her heart for Bilbo Baggins' little nephew, and always saved him a treat. It was her personal opinion that he was much too thin, and need to build his strength, so she did what samll bit she could to help.  
  
"Hullo there, Mr. Bilbo; Mr. Frodo," Violet called, as she arranged some bundles on a shelf.  
  
"What brings you here today?" She continued as Bilbo closed the large rosewood door and walked over to her. Frodo looked around the store and admired the lovely paintings on the deep green walls that Violet had done herself.  
  
"We're looking for two boxes of pocket-handkerchiefs, nice ones," he replied. Frodo stood shyly off to the side, by himself, as Violet and Bilbo laughed and talked like old friends. Violet noticed him and gave him and warm smile and wave, and he grinned back.  
  
"Ah, here we go. Will these do?" She lifted two small wood boxes off the shelf. Inside of each were about a dozen silken handkerchiefs with dark red trim.  
  
"Those will do nicely, thank you Violet;" Bilbo nodded and got out his money. "I'm assuming some of these are for your nephew?" She questioned, as Frodo answered her with a loud sneeze, nearly knocking over the vase of flowers that had caused it.  
  
"Yes," Bilbo sighed, shaking his head. "He has terrible allergies. The poor thing can't be around a flower for half a minute before he sneezes himself silly." Violet clucked her tongue, and Frodo looked blushed, sniffling. "Not natural for a Hobbit at all," she thought to herself, as she glanced at the pale little lad.  
  
"I'll tell you what," she said. "Your purchases are on me. Goodness knows the lad will need them." Violet smiled. "And no protests," she held up her hand, and Bilbo resigned. "All right," he sighed. "Thank you very much, my dear." Violet playfully shooed away his praise, and the Bagginses bid their friend farewell, but not before, to Frodo's delight, she slipped him a cinnamon scone form her basket under the counter.  
  
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Later that day, when Frodo and Bilbo had finished their shopping, (They had made other stops at the bakery, the tailor, and had stopped for lunch as well as buying their gift for Sam.) they walked slowly home together for supper. The sun was quite low in the clear sky, casting a gauzy orange glow on the tiny Hobbits under its bright gaze. Frodo quietly slipped his hand into his Uncle's and let out a tiny yawn.  
  
"Are you tired, lad?" Bilbo asked. Frodo shook his head.  
  
"Only a bit, Uncle. May I stay up later and read with you?" Frodo asked, his large eyes hopeful. Bilbo chuckled, and mussed Frodo's curls playfully, causing the lad to giggle.  
  
"I don't see why not," he replied. "As long as you get a good night's sleep." Frodo nodded, and Bilbo smiled at him.  
  
"I was thinking we could visit could visit the Gamgees tomorrow," Bilbo continued, "to give Sam his present." He noticed Frodo's face light up at the mention of seeing his new friend, and was glad the boy finally had someone his own age to play with.  
  
"That sounds like a splendid idea, Uncle," Frodo said, yawing again and hoping Bilbo wouldn't notice. "And...I'm glad we got to spend the day together...Even if we couldn't go on our hike," the lad continued shyly. Bilbo just squeezed Frodo's hand in response, as the two Bagginses walked along the road back to Bag End once more, as the sun set on the city of Hobbiton for another day. 


	6. A Gamgee Affair

Chapter Five---A Gamgee Affair  
  
In an event of lucky coincidence, Bell happened to invite the two Bagginses over for supper a fortnight later. Bilbo was pleased, but Frodo was a bit nervous. He had only met Sam's brothers and sisters in passing, and had only ever spoken to Bell once. Bilbo tried to reassure the boy there was nothing to worry about, but Frodo was still wary.  
  
"What if they don't like me, Bilbo?" Frodo helped Bilbo pack up Sam's present and the pie they were bringing for dessert. As neither Baggins was talented in the art of baking, undertaking something as difficult as a pie had been quite a feat. The kitchen had a burnt smell for days afterward.  
  
"Frodo, Bell and Hamfast already love you, and Sam's siblings are as kind as can be. I assure you we will have a lovely time." Frodo nodded half- heartedly, as the two Hobbits got ready to leave for number three Bagshot Row.  
  
Meanwhile, the Gamgees were furiously preparing for their guests. Their house was always in a flurry of activity, but rarely were all the children there at once. When they were, it was even worse. Halfred and Hamfast, always attached at the hip, were racing to see who could set the table fastest. Daisy was sitting in the corner, humming quietly and trying not to be noticed and saddled with chores. Bell did notice however, and she joined May and Goldie peeling the remaining potatoes. Both girls gave their sister knowing smirks, and she stuck out her tongue. Bell put the finishing touches on the roast, while the Gaffer gathered vegetables and flowers from his large garden. When he came inside, Sam, who had been sorting herbs for his mum, informed his slightly embarrassed da, that "don't you know the flowers give Mr. Frodo the sneezes?" They were quickly replaced with sprigs of ivy and berries the now idle girls were sent to collect.  
  
In a few minutes, a remarkable silence had overtaken the home. Everyone sat and waited for Frodo and Bilbo to arrive, caught up in their own thoughts. May and Daisy played a quiet game, Ham and Hal arm wrestled, and Sam and Goldie sat with their parents on the arms of an easy chair. Everyone was secretly worried what young mister Frodo would think of their humble hole and family, just as much as Frodo was worried if the Gamgees would like him. Had the lad known this, he may have been less apprehensive, but there was no more time left for Number Three's residents to dwell on their thoughts, because just then, there was a knock at the door and they all knew who it would be.  
  
******************************************************  
  
Bilbo walked briskly to the round blue door of Bagshot Row and opened it with a flourish and a big smile at the Gamgee family, comically gathered together by the door. Frodo stood next to him, hands in his pockets, and grinned shyly. The silence was broken when all the children began to talk at once; most excited to finally meet the "elvish hobbit" Sam and Goldie spoke so highly of. Frodo was embarrassed at all the attention, and tried to stop the flurry of questions coming his way, but to no avail. After warm and friendly greetings all around, Bell announced to Frodo and Bilbo that supper was ready.  
  
"Can I sit next to Mr. Frodo, mum?" Goldie asked eagerly.  
  
"No, I want to," May said primly, tossing her brown curls with an air of importance. Daisy frowned at her sister. "I should sit with Mr. Frodo," she said, matter of factly, "It's my choice anyhow, because I'm the youngest."  
  
"No, it's our choice, because we're the oldest! What kind of rules are you making up, Daisy?" Hamson cried, and Halfred agreed.  
  
"He's my friend, so he sits with me!" Goldie added, arms crossed. Bell rubbed her temples in aggravation, and the Gaffer sighed impatiently as the siblings squabbled over each other. Finally Bell broke in.  
  
"Loves, stop your arguing! It's all well and good, but can't you see he's a bit overwhelmed?" Five pairs of brown eyes turned to stare at the lad, still standing at the door, clearly embarrassed and a bit flattered by all the attention.  
  
"Now then: Sam-love, you get to sit next to Mr. Frodo. You've been quiet and good this whole time, and the rest of you can take a lesson from him!" Bell clucked her tongue at the rest of her brood, and they couldn't help but laugh. Sam smiled and took Frodo's hand in his as the entered the small kitchen. Bilbo grinned to himself as he watched, and gave Bell a knowing look.  
  
"This is lovely, Mrs. Gamgee!" Frodo exclaimed once the crowd of Hobbits sat down. He was right. Bell had cooked a feast sure to please all at the table: roast mutton with a thick homemade gravy, new potatoes with herbs, fresh baked bread and sweet butter, berries in newly made cream, mountains of fresh vegetables from the garden, red cheese, and creamy mushroom soup. As everyone began to eat, Frodo found he was enjoying himself immensely. Dinner with the Gamgees was a loud and jubilant affair, and Frodo couldn't help being reminded of his meals back at Brandy Hall, with his little cousins running about and making noise.  
  
When dinner was over, Bilbo presented Bell with the pie he and Frodo had made.  
  
"It's.... Lovely, Mr. Bilbo. Thank you," Bell smiled queerly, as she looked at the slightly misshapen and burnt blackberry pie he held. Frodo looked up and smiled a little.  
  
"We're sorry Mrs. Gamgee. I suppose we should leave the baking to you from now on." Bell laughed, and patted the boy on the shoulder.  
  
"Nonsense, love. I'm sure it tastes delicious." Bell carried the pie over to the table and got out a knife to cut it. The younger Gamgees licked their lips in excitement.  
  
"Will you do the honors, Mr. Frodo?" Bell asked, and the young Baggins nodded. Carefully taking the knife from her hands, Frodo leaned over to cut the golden curst, but it slipped out of his hand and landed on one of his slender fingers before falling backward with a clatter on the table. A tiny trail of blood trickled down Frodo's pale hand, and he bit his lip.  
  
"Oh dear. Let me you a bandage for that, love," Bell said, concerned. "Daisy, could you get me some soapy water and a small piece of the white cloth to tie up his finger with?" Daisy nodded, and quickly hurried out of the room the fetch what her mum needed.  
  
Meanwhile, the lad in question was red as a beet. "I'm--I'm sorry, Mrs. Gamgee," he mumbled. "I'm so clumsy..." Frodo smiled as he noticed Sam, May, and Goldie had gotten up to help Daisy. Ham and Hal took a forlorn look at the cooling pie, and sighed in unison. Frodo laughed.  
  
"Now listen to me, lad," Bell said, her tone no-nonsense, "don't speak that way about yourself, beggin' your pardon. Plenty a good Hobbit is clumsy, it's nothing to be ashamed of. Now, chin up, and let's have that pie, hmm?" Frodo grinned at Bell's warm face, and to the delight of all at the table, the pie was finally served. To both Frodo and Bilbo's surprise, they all thought it was delicious.  
  
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After supper, Frodo joined the Gamgee children in the small yard while the grown-ups talked inside. The balmy spring twilight was tinged with a refreshing breeze, and fireflies fluttered all around like tiny golden stars. Daisy, May, and Goldie ran off to have a rope skipping contest, and begged Frodo to join them.  
  
"Thank you for the offer, Goldie, but I'm going to have to decline. You saw how clumsy I was before, anyhow!" He laughed.  
  
"Well..." Goldie responded, "I suppose that's all right. But you have to play tig with us later, then." Frodo nodded in resignation and Goldie leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek, smiling, then ran away giggling madly to her sisters. Frodo couldn't help but do so himself.  
  
"Do you want to catch some fireflies, Mr. Frodo?" Asked Sam. "I already asked Ham and Hal, but they're off doing something mum's probly going ta yell at them for later."  
  
"I'd love to, Sam," Frodo replied. "But I'm afraid I've never done it before. Can you show me how?" Sam smiled, and took Frodo by the hand, leading the older hobbit over to a dilapidated garden shed.  
  
"Inside are the jars," he explained. "We put the fireflies in them. They have holes in the tops so they can breathe." Frodo nodded.  
  
"I think I remember Merry catching fireflies once, with Berilac and some of my other cousins. It looks like fun." Frodo had a wistful sort of look on his face, and Sam tried to cheer him up. He scooped up a small jar and demonstrated, scooping fireflies into his jar as he ran. Frodo smiled, and followed suit. Soon the two boys had caught so many; the small jars illuminated the area around their faces in the darkness.  
  
"Mr. Frodo, your face is glowing!" Sam said, in awe.  
  
"So is yours, Sam," Frodo replied, laughing.  
  
******************************************************  
  
Soon it was completely dark, and the time came for Bilbo and Frodo to bid the Gamgees farewell. It was also far past the children's' bedtimes, but the night had been such fun Bell and Hamfast payed it no mind. After fond hugs and another kiss from Goldie for Frodo, the two Bagginses began their short walk home. They were only a few steps away when Frodo remembered his present for Sam, and ran back to give it. Bilbo laughed at his own forgetfulness.  
  
"Both of us can remember obscure Elvish phrases, but neither can seem to remember a simple present!" Frodo laughed also, and Bilbo shook his head, smiling.  
  
"Here you go Sam!" Frodo exclaimed, running up to his friend, who was just going inside with his family. "I almost forgot to give you this!" He handed the small wooden box to Sam, his cheeks pink from the frantic run. Sam smiled quizzically, and opened the box. "New handkerchiefs! They're very nice. Thank you Mr. Frodo!" Sam exclaimed. Frodo smiled. "It's the least I could do. You did rescue me after all! And I never returned your old one, I actually lost it, and I'm very sorry, but I'm sure these will do." Sam smiled broadly, and gave the taller hobbit a hug around his waist. Frodo laughed and bid Sam farewell again, returning to Bilbo further down the walk.  
  
"So, dear lad," he asked as they made their way home, bellies full from the delicious meal, "did you have a good time?" Frodo nodded.  
  
"I did, Uncle. The Gamgees are wonderful. I see now why Sam is so friendly himself." Bilbo smiled down at Frodo, glad that his lad had found friends who accepted and were kind to him. "I knew you would have a lovely time, Frodo. The Gamgees really are wonderful people," Bilbo said, "I would give up Bag End in a day for them," he finished seriously, and Frodo simply nodded in agreement. 


	7. Coming Home, Leaving Home

Chapter Six---Going Home, Leaving Home  
  
Mid-May arrived in the Shire with clear blue skies, fluffy white clouds, and two things that were golden and blanketed the sky. One was the late spring sun, illuminating the bright skies and dappling the faces of the lads and lasses playing under it. The other was the cause of the confinement of one of their own, as he sat inside, staring out the window sadly at his bane; the sheets and sheets of bright yellow pollen coating the sky.  
  
All of Hobbiton was abuzz in expecting an amazing crop of flowers and shrubs in the spring still to come. For some unfathomable reason, the flora and fauna were sprouting like wildfire that year, literally covering the bright green grass of the Shire with a variety of colorful, fragrant blooms. No one had ever seen anything like it before, but all were thrilled at the beautiful developments, enjoying them while they could.  
  
All except one. Frodo Baggins continued to stare out the round window of Bag End, watching Sam and the Cotton boys run and shout in the distance. Bilbo, returning from a jaunt of writing in his room, sat down beside the boy and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. Frodo sniffled, and looked up. "It's not fair, Uncle Bilbo. Why--why do we..." his tiny shoulders shook a little and Bilbo sighed. It was so hard for him, being the only lad who couldn't romp and play outside with the others.  
  
"My lad, I know it's hard for you, but we must do it. Unless you want to spend the whole spring indoors?" Frodo shook his head and smiled a little. Bilbo referred to his idea of the two Bagginses staying in Brandy Hall for the remainder of the season. Frodo's allergies had gotten so bad that he literally could not go outside at all, anymore. As a result, Bilbo had asked Esme and Saradoc if he and Frodo could stay at the Hall until the end of spring. They all agreed a few months with the milder scenery by the marsh would do him no end of good.  
  
But none of this cheered him up a bit. "I'm going to miss Sam so much. and Goldie, and Fatty...but, I suppose, I will get to see Merry. I do miss him so," Frodo thought to himself, and tried to cheer up, for Bilbo's sake.  
"I suppose it won't be so bad," he whispered. Bilbo gazed at his nephew sadly, and the two got up to pack their bags for Buckland.  
  
********************************************************  
  
"Now, be careful, my lad," Bilbo cautioned, as Frodo stood on the threshold of Bag End. "If you have any trouble breathing, we'll go straight to the nearest shady spot and rest for a bit, all right? Frodo nodded, smiling. "Thank you for letting me say goodbye to Sam. I'll miss him so much when we're away...but I know it's best, and I am very excited to Merry, Auntie Esme, and Uncle Saradoc again!" He laughed. Bilbo grinned. "That's the spirit, lad. Are you ready to go?" Frodo nodded, and the two Bagginses set off for Number Three.  
  
In the first few minutes of their walk to Bagshot Row, Frodo had practically keeled over. Bilbo rubbed his back through a coughing and sneezing fit, and whispered, "We could always go back, my boy." Frodo adamantly shook his head.  
  
"Do Bilbo," he answered stuffily. "By want bo say goobye to Sabm. Ib I dob't now, I bight not hab a chance to later." Bilbo sighed, and shook his head, but they continued on.  
  
"That old Baggins stubbornness," he thought to himself.  
  
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Sam heard a knock on the door and ran from the table to open it. He had been helping his mother make a particularly delicious stew for supper, and sneaking taters here and there for himself. "Thank you, love," Bell called from the kitchen, stirring the broth.  
  
Sam gasped at sight of Frodo, looking more exhausted and miserable than he had ever seen. He held a handkerchief over his nose and mouth and his eyes were red-rimmed, bloodshot, and watery. When he removed it Sam could see his pointed nose was bright red as well, and rubbed raw. He coughed, and Sam spoke.  
  
"Mr. Frodo! Are you all right? What happened?" Bell came rushing to the door, wiping her hands on a dishtowel.  
  
"My goodness, Mr. Frodo! What a sight you are! Come inside, come inside!" She beckoned to Frodo and Bilbo, before either of them could speak. Bell brought Frodo as glass of water, and as he drank appreciatively, Bilbo began to explain.  
  
"We came to say goodbye, Bell. Frodo and I are going to spend the rest of the spring in Buckland, where it will be easier on his health." Bilbo sighed, as if he was unhappy at the prospect.  
  
"You're...leaving?" Sam cut in, brown eyes wide and sad. "But, but you'll miss everything! Mid-year's day! May's birthday! The Free Fair! And I'll miss you!" He finished, beginning to cry. Frodo looked as if he would as well.  
  
"Ib's nobt so bad Sam," he said, sniffling. "I'bll come back for the Free Fair, I probise." Bilbo nodded in agreement. "It will be summer before you know it, Sam. Then we'll be in Hobbiton for the rest of the year." He tried to cheer up Sam, but the boy continued to cry, and Bilbo felt overwhelmed. Luckily, Bell cut in.  
  
"Now, now, Sam. Don't make it worse for Frodo than it already is," she said gently. "It's what's best for him, in the long run. He wouldn't even be able to come outdoors with you, if he stayed." Sam wiped his eyes, and looked up slowly. "Oh, Mr. Frodo, I'll just miss you so much. But I don't want you to be sick..." Sam sighed, and gave Frodo a hug, curling up in his lap sadly. Frodo cried softly into the smaller boy's golden brown curls. Bilbo and Bell just looked on sadly, and left the two alone for the time being to say their goodbyes.  
  
"Bell," Bilbo said, "it goes without saying that I'll still bay Hamfast his wages for the time we're gone." She nodded. "I just hope your poor lad feels better soon." Bilbo had a queer look on his face, as if he was thinking.  
  
"Bell..." he finally said. "I love Frodo as of he was my own. But sometimes...I'm afraid...his health is so frail. It's so difficult at times... I just don't know what I'd ever do if I lost him. If something happened to him...I've never looked after a child before, Bell. I've never been good with them. But Frodo, he's different. He's the only Baggins that's ever shown any spirit. I couldn't bear it if I wasn't doing a...a good job." Bell had been listening intently the whole time, and felt it was her time to say something.  
  
"Mr. Bilbo, I'll be honest with you, sir, beggin' your pardon. I have six healthy, happy children, and taking care of them has been my greatest joy. You could say I know the ups and downs of parenting lads and lasses pretty well." She jumped slightly at the sound of something breaking upstairs, obviously the doing of one of her oldest, or both. Bilbo couldn't help but chuckle.  
  
"I've watched you care for your Frodo, and I must say you have my greatest respect. That lad is a special one, indeed. One of the smartest I've ever met, for his age. Sometimes he seems...he's not ment for this world. More like an elf than a Hobbit. But let me tell you something, sir. That boy loves you more than anything. You're all he has. Try not to dwell on the future. Enjoy every moment you have with him. Mr. Frodo is a precious gift, Mr. Bilbo. To all of us. Bell patted his hand, and Bilbo smiled as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. "And don't forget, you can always come to me if you need anything for him. Goodness knows I've been through every ailment imaginable with my six." Bilbo laughed. "Thank you, Bell," he said quietly.  
  
"Anytime, Mr. Bilbo. Anytime." She smiled warmly.  
  
The two older hobbits looked over to the lads, who had dried their tears, and were laughing at something together. The color had returned to Frodo's cheeks, and from the sound of it, his stuffy head had cleared up quite a bit. Bilbo silently breathed a sigh of relief. "At least the poor lad is feeling a bit better," he thought to himself.  
  
When it was finally time to say their goodbyes, Sam rushed to Frodo and hugged him tightly. The older lad tried hard not to start crying again.  
  
"Tell Goldie and the others goodbye for me, all right?" Sam nodded sadly. "Oh, Sam," Frodo said, equally forlorn, 'It will be July before you know it, and we'll be back for the rest of the year...so, chin up." Frodo tried hard to take his own advice. Embracing once more, tightly, they parted, smiling sadly at each other, nut brown eyes on sky blue.  
  
Meanwhile, Bilbo explained to Bell that they planned to borrow a cart from Farmer Cotton to get to Buckland. She sharply shook her head.  
  
"Now, Mr. Bilbo, that just won't do, having the lad walk all that way with his condition. I'll just lend you our cart and cart horse. We got her from Farmer Maggot, so you'll have to return her on the way back." Bilbo thought about refusing, but realized she had a point, and in a few minutes the cart was ready. While waiting outside, Frodo had begun to cough again, and Sam was trying to get him to breathe easier.  
  
"There, Mr. Frodo. Just breathe slowly, that's it." Sam cringed as Frodo breathed in a mouthful of pollen and coughed even harder. Miserably, he covered his mouth and nose with a hanky again.  
  
Soon it was time for Frodo and Bilbo to go, and the lad waved goodbye to Sam until he could no longer see him. Sighing, he closed his eyes against his Uncle's shoulder as the cart headed down the long dirt road, and fell asleep, his breathing wheezy. Bilbo kissed his dark curly head and looked at the road ahead, as he made their way to Brandy Hall. 


	8. Old Stories

Chapter Seven---Old Stories  
  
It was late at night when Frodo and Bilbo finally arrived at Brandy Hall. The sky was like dark blue velvet set with tiny diamond stars. Bilbo wished Frodo were awake to see it, but didn't want to disturb the lad's sleep. He didn't have to worry however, because at that moment Frodo woke up, a heap of blankets and dark rumpled curls.  
  
Yawning, he smiled at his uncle. "Are we here already?" Bilbo laughed and nodded, and the two Bagginses looked up at the rustic yet imposing structure that was Brandy Hall.  
  
"You know, Uncle Bilbo," said Frodo sleepily, "It seems like so long ago I was living here...But now I'm at Bag End, with you, and, I'm so much happier. It's so much quieter. Bilbo couldn't help but laugh out loud.  
  
"Indeed it is, and I'm glad. Now, come along, my lad. We'll just get you to your room, and you can see your cousins tomorrow." Frodo yawned again, and nodded.  
  
The two hobbits made their way to Brandy Hall's large front door. Turning the knob, Bilbo opened it, and to his surprise, the plump freckled face of Esmerelda Brandybuck stared back at him. Both Hobbits split into huge smiles, and they embraced.  
  
"I'm surprised you made it here this early!" Esme exclaimed, "I was certain you wouldn't be here till tomorrow, but there you are." She quickly took a few bags form Bilbo, and he thanked her. Frodo hugged Esme weakly around the waist, and she gave him a gentle kiss.  
  
"How are you feeling, Frodo-love?" She asked warmly. Frodo shrugged his shoulders, rubbing his nose. Esme gave Bilbo a meaningful look, and he simply shook his head, to indicate that things hadn't gotten any better. Esme sighed, but quickly was her brisk self again.  
  
"All right, dear, you'll be sharing the guestroom with your Uncle Bilbo. Some of your things are still in your old room; you can get them tomorrow morning." Soon they threesome reached the guestroom, and Esme walked over to Frodo while Bilbo unpacked their belongings.  
  
"We'll get everything sorted out tomorrow, love. For now you just get your rest. I've made sure you have plenty of fresh hankies, and I took the liberty of bringing you that ratty green blanket from the library you seemed to like so much. It's yours as long as you and Bilbo are here." Frodo smiled at Esme, who gave him a kiss. "Goodnight, my dear."  
  
"Goodnight Auntie Esme," Frodo said sleepily. She waved, and soon disappeared down the long hallway.  
  
Once Frodo was ready for bed, Bilbo tucked him in and got ready to sleep himself. The guestroom was extremely large and roomy; even though it had two beds, each hobbit had his own space as big as a normal sized room. Regardless, however, Frodo was glad to have his uncle nearby. He had always felt lonely in Brandy Hall, before he left. Knowing Bilbo was right down the hall in Bag End, and now here, was a great comfort.  
  
He sighed softly as his head hit the fluffy feather pillow and very soon was asleep, the only sound in the large bedroom his quiet snoring.  
  
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The next morning, Frodo was out of bed before anyone else, and he quietly changed and tiptoed out so as not to wake his sleeping uncle.  
After going into the kitchen and discovering breakfast was not yet ready, he decided to venture outside. Unfortunately, he had a nagging feeling it was not the best idea, considering why he was back at Brandy Hall in the first place.  
  
Once he was outside, however, Frodo realized he could breathe easier than he had in months. Inhaling deeply, he savored the clear marsh air, as a soft breeze tickled his pale face. Sighing happily, he watched the pink and orange traces of sunrise disappear from the morning sky.  
  
When he finally entered the Hall again, he found it bustling with its usual activity. Hurrying to the breakfast tables, he quickly spotted Bilbo's curly, silver head. He walked over, and sat down, looking for other familiar faces.  
  
"Good morning, my lad," Bilbo said. "Did you sleep well?" Frodo nodded, smiling.  
  
"I went outside to watch the sunrise, this morning, and I felt so much better," he said quietly. Bilbo looked delighted, and ruffled his hair. "I'm so glad of that, my lad."  
  
Midway into breakfast, Frodo spotted a blur of gold curls and yellow breeches running towards him. Before he could brace himself, he had been tackled by a tiny Hobbit lad, who hugged him furiously.  
  
"Cousin Frodo! Cousin Frodo! You're back! Are you staying this time? And Cousin Bilbo is here too! Why are you here? Mum and Da didn't tell me you were coming! Tell me about Hobbiton! I bet you don't like it as much as Buckland," as Merry babbled, while Frodo and Bilbo stifled giggles.  
  
"Slow down, Merry-lad!" Frodo laughed. "I'm so happy to see you again, as well," he said, giving his bouncing cousin a kiss on the head. "To answer your questions...I'm afraid to say Bilbo and I are not staying longer than a few months." Merry frowned a bit at his statement. "We're here because of that silly nose of mine," Frodo sighed. Merry, knowing what he meant, laughed. "Poor sneezy Frodo," he said, tweaking the cause of his cousin's affliction. "And I must admit, I love living at Bag End with Cousin Bilbo, but I do miss everyone here loads." Merry smiled.  
  
"I bet you miss me the most." Frodo chuckled. "You have me there."  
  
"Will you tell me about Hobbiton? Do you have any new friends?"  
  
Merry asked eagerly, munching on a corn muffin slathered in butter, crumbs scattered across his rosy, round face.  
  
"I do. And I promise I'll tell you all about everything today, but both of us must eat breakfast now!" Frodo said in a mock-serious tone. Merry, eager to hear stories, began to shove his breakfast down. Frodo and Bilbo smiled at each other, and Bilbo winked.  
  
*********************************************************  
  
Later that day, Frodo bid Bilbo goodbye and took Merry for a walk around the smial. He had seen and greeted so many cousins, aunts, and uncles that his head was spinning. He was beginning to seriously consider how lucky he was to live at Bag End as opposed to Brandy Hall. "The precious quiet!" He laughed to himself.  
  
As the two lads continued walking down the long, wooden halls, the reached a familiar room. The door was open, and Frodo and Merry peeked inside, grinning from ear to ear. At the highly polished maple desk inside the room sat a middle-aged hobbit with golden, messy curls, much like Merry's. He scribbled furiously on what looked like an important document, stopping every once and a while to take a sip of tea from a mug next to him. But soon the silence was broken, as the two lads ran into the small study.  
  
"Da! Da!" Merry cried, as the older hobbit, Merry's father; Saradoc Brandybuck, opened his arms to pick up his little lad, and spun him around the room. Merry laughed happily, as Saradoc gently touched him to the ground. "Hullo, Merry-love. I'm so sorry I wasn't able to play with you today. I promise, tomorrow you and I will do something special together, all right?" Merry nodded eagerly, and sat down on his Da's lap. Frodo still stood by the door, feeling suddenly shy. He didn't want to intrude on Merry and his Da, and almost felt like he didn't belong. Saradoc noticed this, and tried to put the lad at ease.  
  
"Well, if it isn't my old nephew, Frodo!" He said, offering the lad a hug, which he gladly accepted. "I'm glad you're here again, lad, despite the conditions. We've all missed you very much." Frodo smiled.  
  
"I've missed you too, Uncle Saradoc. And Merry, and Auntie Esme. I didn't even realize how much." Saradoc beamed, ruffling his nephew's hair.  
"I was wondering," he continued, as Saradoc straightened Merry's drooping suspenders, "would it be alright if Merry and I went down to the Brandywine and stayed for a bit before it's time for supper?  
  
"I don't see why not. You could use a bit of fresh air, my lad. You're much too pale for a Hobbit!" Frodo laughed, and blushed, which only served to accent his chalk white skin.  
  
After bidding Saradoc farewell, the two boys headed to the banks of the Brandywine on foot. They didn't bring much more than a book for Frodo, and a small cake snuck out of the kitchen to tide Merry over until supper. Soon they were set up comfortably under a large weeping willow, swaying gently in the breeze. Sighing contentedly, the sat in a blissful silence for a while (quite a feat for the younger lad), while simply enjoying each other's company.  
  
Being near the Brandywine was always a bittersweet experience for Frodo. Although the area held many of his treasured childhood memories, it also held the painful thought of his parents drowning. Suddenly, he remembered, the last time he had sat by the river with Merry, he had been sharing the news of his impending adoption. He now realized good memories could still come from this special place, and felt a bit heartened, as he enjoyed the lost sensation of inhaling the spring air, smiling faintly.  
  
To the surprise of both Merry and Frodo, Bilbo appeared as the sun began to go down, joining the cousins under their willowy refuge. They lazily and instinctively curled up against the older hobbit, who smiled down on them.  
  
"Tell us a story, Bilbo," Merry said. Bilbo chuckled. "I'm sure you've heard just about every one of my stories, Merry-lad." Merry adamantly shook his golden head.  
  
"I wouldn't mind hearing an old one, just now," he declared.  
  
"Neither would I, Uncle Bilbo," Frodo agreed, leaning his head on Bilbo's shoulder, as he gazed at the blue expanse of river beyond.  
  
"Then an old story it is then. Which would you like to hear, lads?" Said Bilbo, who enjoyed telling his stories as much as his two favorite lads loved hearing them.  
  
"It's Frodo's choice," Merry said diplomatically. His older cousin smiled. "All right, then. I choose...hmm...how about a story of your adventure? When Gandalf came to Bag End for the first time. I'd love to meet him, someday." Merry nodded in agreement.  
  
"And I know both of you will. Now, let's see. I was sitting outside of Bag End, minding my own business, when suddenly a saw a tall figure approaching..."  
  
And so, like the start of a familiar and well-loved story, Frodo's peaceful spring at Buckland had begun. 


	9. What Goes Up Must Come Down

Chapter Eight---What Goes Up Must Come Down  
  
Dedicated to MLynnBloom, whose reviews came at just the right time. ^^  
  
Sam Gamgee hurried into the kitchen of Number Three Bagshot Row, filled with excitement as his mum called for him.  
  
"A letter came, Sam-love! From Mr. Frodo!" Sam grinned hugely, finally spying his mother waving a large white envelope. His sisters and brothers were elsewhere, and for once Sam was glad. He wanted to enjoy Mr. Frodo's letter all by himself.  
  
"Here it is," Bell smiled, as she handed the letter to her son. She smiled as his eyes lit up, knowing how much he missed his dear Mr. Frodo. Bell had to admit she did miss him greatly, as well. In a house full of loud, rambunctious lads and lasses, Frodo's quiet, polite demeanor was a welcome change. He was always a peaceful presence in their tiny home.  
  
Bell continued to watch happily, as her youngest son tore open the envelope and handed the letter to her.  
  
"Will you read it to me, Mum?" Sam asked eagerly, and Bell nodded. "Of course, Sam-love. Now, let's see," she began....  
  
My Dearest Samwise (And Goldie, May, Daisy, Ham, Hal, Bell, Gaffer...),  
  
Hullo from Buckland!  
  
I'm happy to report I'm feeling better than I have in ages. Bilbo says the Buckland air is doing me wonders, and I think he's right. My sniffles and sneezes are practically gone, and I'm taking full advantage of playing by the river whenever I can. (Don't worry, I'm always very careful.)  
  
My little cousin Merry delights in hearing stories about Hobbiton, and especially about all of you. I think you would get along splendidly with him, and I cannot wait until the Free Fair, when you will all finally meet each other. My Took cousins Pearl, Nellie, and Vinca are coming too. They've never been to the Fair before, so it should be very exciting.  
  
I must admit that spending lazy days with Merry so often has led to some neglecting of my studies with Bilbo. I don't think he minds, though, being quite busy with his writing and other affairs as usual. But we do get to spend a great deal of time together, nonetheless.  
  
Please tell May that I greatly regret missing her birthday, and I will have an extra special mathom for her at our next party to make up for it. I miss the rest of you tremendously as well, and although I love it here, I am counting the days until I arrive home. I know it will only be for a short time, but that is certainly good enough for me. And before long, I will be back for good!  
  
I have so much to tell you once I see you all then. Please send my and Bilbo's love to everyone else. And Gaffer, don't forget to give the roses extra care for me. I know they make me sneeze something awful, but they're still my favorite part of the garden.  
Sincerely Yours,  
Frodo Baggins  
Brandy Hall, Buckland  
  
When Bell finished reading the letter, both she and Sam were beaming. Hearing the words was almost like having Frodo with them, albeit for only a little.  
  
"Mum, I really can't wait 'till Mr. Frodo comes back. I know it's only been a month, but I miss him so much," he said sadly. Bell frowned in sympathy.  
"Oh, I miss him too, Sam-love," she replied, "it just doesn't seem right without him here, does it?" Sam shook his head, but quickly perked up again when his mum held out her batter-covered spoon she had been using to make cookies for him to lick, which he did.  
  
"Only a few weeks more," thought Sam, smiling face covered in gooey dough, "and then Mr. Frodo will be coming home.  
  
***Two weeks later...***  
  
"Is everything ready then, Esme?" Asked Bilbo, as the plump hobbit woman finished packing up their cart. Nodding, she got into her own next to her husband, and smiled at Merry, who was sprawled comfortably in the wooden seat behind them. Frodo and Bilbo waved and called goodbyes from their own cart as Bilbo hoisted the reins and they set off for Hobbiton.  
  
"I'll see you soon, Merry!" Frodo cried. The Brandybucks were headed to Tuckburough to stay the night, and they would arrive with Eglatine, Paladin, and their daughters the next day. Merry waved at Frodo, but as soon as the cart pulled away, he began to pout.  
  
"I wanted to ride with Cousin Frodo and Bilbo," he sniffed. Esme laughed. "I know that, dear, but don't you want to see your cousins at Tuckburough?"  
  
"No," he replied, "I don't like lasses. They muss my hair and pinch my cheeks. I hate being the youngest," he continued with an injured sigh. Saradoc and Esme tried not to laugh.  
  
"Don't worry, lad," Saradoc said, "I'm sure someday you'll have a little lad cousin of your own." Merry smiled at this thought.  
  
"Truly, da?" Saradoc nodded.  
  
"Truly, Merry-lad," he replied, winking at his wife.  
  
***************************************************************  
Frodo, who had been unusually bouncy and restless the whole trip, grinned broadly when he saw Hobbiton approaching on the horizon.  
  
"We're almost there," he cried excitedly, and Bilbo couldn't help but delight in his boy's enthusiasm.  
  
"That's right, my lad. We're almost home."  
  
Soon Bilbo's cart pulled into the small Shire town, and before long they reached Bagshot Row. Standing in front of Number Three were Sam and Goldie, now only tiny brown specks in the distance but gradually coming closer.  
  
Frodo surprised his Uncle by jumping out of the cart and running directly to the hole with the round yellow door. In a matter of seconds, he was caught in an enormous hug with the two young Gamgees, all of them laughing.  
  
"Oh, Sam; Goldie...I'm so happy to see you again," Frodo said softly, and the children smiled back at him, Sam biggest of all.  
  
"Not as happy as we are to see you, Mr. Frodo." Both lads started at each other's happy faces for a while, and Goldie beamed at them.  
  
Later, when Bilbo and Frodo had gotten settled back at Bag End (which, considering what was to be the length of the stay, was rather like living out of their traveling bags), Frodo ventured over to the Gamgee home once more. Merry would be arriving the next day, and the day after that was the Fair. Sam and Frodo had a lot of catching up to do, and only one uneventful day in which to do it!  
  
The pollen-saturated air of the Shire had thankfully let up quite a bit, but even so, Frodo had to admit he wasn't feeling nearly as hardy as he had back in Buckland. Bilbo had given him an oversized straw hat he had found buried in a drawer in Bag End, which he hoped would help keep the intrusive pollen out of Frodo's face. Both Bagginses had laughed when the lad first put it on, as he looked a tad ridiculous. However, it was all they could find to help him on such short notice, and was quite funny to see.  
  
Once he reached Bagshot Row, Frodo knocked on the door loudly, and Bell answered, sweeping him up into a choking hug. He laughed weakly, and she let him go.  
  
"It's good to have you back, love," she said happily. "We missed you so much. It wasn't the same without you, without seeing you every day," she continued earnestly, tweaking him on his pointed pink nose. He smiled happily, and gave her a kiss on the cheek in return, before he said goodbye hurrying off to find Sam and his siblings.  
  
"I'm going to have to find that lad a smaller hat," she mused, walking off in search.  
  
Frodo discovered May and Daisy in the garden behind the hole, carefully planting some marigolds, roses, and violets. He stood at a safe distance from the flora as they rushed over to him, babbling happy greetings and giving surprisingly choking hugs. Frodo laughed heartily when May swiped off his hat and tried it on her own head. The floppy brim was so wide it covered half of her face, and Daisy sniggered behind her hand.  
  
"Do I look beauuuutiful, Mr. Frodo?" Asked May in her haughtiest tone, and her sister couldn't help but burst out laughing, pounding her fist on the ground. Frodo however, smiled at her, and with a most gentlemanly air replied, "You look stunning, Miss May. Could I have the honor of escorting you inside?" She nodded solemnly, and walked off, glaring daggers at Daisy, who was still snickering.  
  
Walking inside, Frodo and May entered the welcoming, warm kitchen of Bagshot Row, filled with wonderful smells as always. Bell waved them in from where she was stirring something in a bowl. Sam, Ham, and Hal rushed to meet the duo at the door from where they had been playing a game of marbles.  
"What kind of a hat is that exactly, May-love?" Asked Hal, as his sister preened and paraded her new accessory.  
  
"It's Mr. Frodo's. But he gave it to me, for now. He says I look beauutiful," she stated seriously. Hal and Hal nodded with equal gravity, and Sam agreed.  
  
"You look wonderful, May," Sam said, and his littlest sister smiled, revealing three missing teeth.  
  
"Could you boys do me a favor..." began Bell, but in a flash Ham and Hal were gone, waving goodbye to Frodo and gathering up their marbles in the escape of impending chores. They laughed as they fled, and Bell clucked her tongue. "Those two..." she muttered.  
  
"All right then. Sam-love, Mr. Frodo, would you two go to the market and get some things for me? Two bags of flour and some strawberries? I need to finish a few pies for my booth at the Fair."  
  
"Sure, Mum," Sam replied, "But Mr. Frodo isn't supposed to be goin' outdoors, what with his allergies an' all." Bell smiled at her son's concern for his friend, but shook her head.  
  
"Nonsense, love. A little bit of air would do Mr. Frodo some good. I'm sure that's all right, sir?" Frodo nodded and smiled.  
  
"Oh, you'll be needing that hat of yours, then, won't you?" Bell mused. "May...give Mr. Frodo back his hat, dear." The tiny lass frowned, shaking her chestnut colored curls.  
  
"But Mum..." she pouted, looking at Frodo and Bell with pleading brown eyes, "Mr. Frodo said I looked beautiful." Frodo bent down to look eye to eye at the Gamgee lass.  
  
"And you do, May. But I'm going to need my hat back now, all right? Tell you what. I'll give it to you to borrow for the Free Fair, and you can show it off to all your friends. How does that sound?" May nodded, and handed the floppy hat back to Frodo, who put it on, gallantly bowed and kissed May's hand.  
  
"Thank you, milady," he said drolly. May blushed and scurried off, while Sam and Bell chuckled.  
  
Frodo and Sam eventually set off to town with a shopping list quickly penned by Bell, and soon found everything they needed. Along the way, they found ample time to catch up with the happenings and events in each other's lives that they had missed during their separation. Both lads clearly lit up in each other's presence, and realized then just how much each missed the other when they were separated.  
  
"Oh, I'm so excited about Mid-Year's Day, Sam. This will be my first one with Bilbo and I..." Frodo didn't get to finish, however, because at that moment a portly figure barreled past him, nearly knocking him to the ground. He staggered and managed to stay upright, dusting off his breeches and picking up his bag of flour which had fallen.  
  
"Are you all right, Mr. Frodo?" Sam asked worriedly.  
  
"I'm fine Sam..." he replied, "but whoever that was looks very familiar..." Frodo mused. He quickly scurried off follow the departing figure, and Sam hurried after him curiously, trying not to drop his heavy bundles.  
  
When the two hobbit lads finally reached the boy who had nearly toppled Frodo, and to their surprise he turned to them, a rude smirk plastered on his blemished face.  
  
"Oh, Brandybuck. It's you. Sorry I knocked you over down there," said the Hobbit in a tone that made it obvious he was not a bit sorry.  
  
"Lotho," Frodo said, his usually soft tone tight and clipped. Sam watched on in confusion. The two obviously weren't friends, but he tried to keep a respectful distance. Lotho continued.  
  
"So how's life with Mad Baggins? Oh, wait, that's right. Mum told me you moved to Buckland for the spring...why was that again?" Frodo frowned.  
  
"Don't ever speak about Bilbo that way. He's no more mad than you or Lobelia. And you know perfectly well why I went off to Buckland, don't you?" Lotho sniggered.  
  
"Oh, that's right. Poor ickle Frodo has to be coddled up by the crazy Brandybucks because he can't handle a few flowers. You always were one to get sick, weren't you? Hope you're well for Mid-Year's Day," he said, smirking. Frodo continued walking, stony faced, but Sam glared at Lotho, and he bent down to the younger Hobbit's level.  
  
"And who might you be?" He asked, speaking to Sam as if he was a baby.  
  
"Sam Gamgee, at your service, sir," muttered Sam without enthusiasm.  
  
"Yes, that's right. Sam, the old gardener's son," he ruffled the lad's hair with a large, greasy hand, and continued to trail Frodo down the lane while the younger lad followed farther behind.  
  
"So," he said in a confiding whisper, "Couldn't find any friends of your own age and class, could you? So you resorted to making that Gamgee your errand boy?" Frodo stopped short, and turned to face Lotho, his large blue eyes now steely and determined.  
  
"If you say one more about Bilbo, or Sam, or me, you'll regret it, you hard necked Hardbottle ninnyhammer," said Frodo loudly. "Come on, Sam," he said, grabbing the lad's small hand, as the two walked away quickly, leaving Lotho in the dust.  
  
There was just enough time, however, for Sam to uncharacteristically blow a raspberry at Lotho before they turned the corner and were gone. 


	10. Reunions and Repercussions

Chapter Eight---Reunions and Repercussions  
  
A/N: Yes. I know I totally messed up the distance between Bag End and Michel Delving. I'm not good with that sort of Bilbo-ish mappy thing, at all. So let's just pretend they actually were that close. Or something. O_O  
  
When Frodo and Sam returned to Bagshot Row they handed Bell her packages and sat down at the round table, sullen looks on both their faces. After organizing her new items, Bell sat down with them, concern evident on her round, tanned face.  
  
"What's wrong, my dears?" She asked softly. "Did something happen at the market?"  
  
Frodo sighed. "It's nothing, really. Just my stupid cousin Lotho Sackville-Baggins...he said some nasty things to Sam and me."  
  
"What did he say, exactly, Frodo-love?" Asked Bell. The lad proceeded to explain the events of the afternoon, and every once in a while Sam would grimace and nod in agreement. When he was finished, Frodo put him head down a bit, dark curls covering his face, and sighed. Sam patted his hand and he smiled.  
  
"He said all that?" Bell asked, aghast. "Why, someone needs to teach that lad some manners! Speaking of Mr. Bilbo like that, and you too, Mr. Frodo. Not to mention you, Sam-love..." she sighed, clearly thinking that if she had her way, Lotho would be getting quite a thrashing right then.  
  
"It's all right, Mum. Mr. Frodo knew what to do." The two Gamgees smiled at Frodo proudly, and he blushed.  
  
"I just told him off, that's all. But I can't help thinking...I wouldn't want him to try and get even. Everyone was staring and laughing at him after we left." Bell shook her head, and smiled reassuringly.  
  
"There's nothing to worry about, love. He'll leave you alone now, I'm sure."  
  
"You don't know Lotho as well as I do, Mrs. Gamgee," Frodo sighed.  
  
***************************************************************  
  
The next day, the business about Lotho had been quickly forgotten with the arrival of the Tooks and Brandybucks. Frodo and Bilbo were reading, shaded by a large tree the Gaffer worked on planting some flowers a little ways away. When the large pony-cart pulled up, Frodo saw Merry running towards him, followed by three auburn haired lasses.  
  
"Frodo," the four cried, practically in unison. The lad in question got up, and greeted each of them with a hug.  
  
"Pearl, Nellie, Vinca, it's wonderful to see you all again," he said to his three lass cousins, while Merry bounced impatiently.  
  
"Are we going to go to the fairgrounds soon, Cousin Frodo?" Asked Merry impatiently. Frodo nodded.  
  
"We will, Mer. In a bit. You all have to get settled in Bag End first."  
  
"Hobbiton is wonderful Frodo," sighed Pearl. "You should have invited us sooner!" Frodo laughed. Out of his lass cousins, Frodo was closest with Pearl. Both hobbits were quiet, studious, and rather shy; so they understood each other quite well. Nellie and Vinca, on the other hand, were bouncing balls of energy, running around constantly, and talking nonstop.  
  
By this time, the adults, including Bilbo; who had gone over to help unload the cart, had come over, and Frodo embraced his aunts and uncles.  
  
"It's so good to see you again, Frodo-lad," said Eglantine, enthusiastically.  
  
"It's good to see you too; Aggie," replied Frodo, and Bilbo couldn't help but chuckle a bit to himself. When Frodo had been a young lad, he couldn't pronounce his Aunt Eggie's name correctly, so the nickname of Aggie had stuck from then on. On top of that, Eglantine had confided in her nephew that she disliked being called "Aunt Aggie."  
  
"It makes me feel so old, and formal," she had said.  
  
After talking and catching up for a while, the adults decided to go in and get settled. Frodo followed, but Bilbo stopped him, smiling.  
  
"My dear lad, we have more than enough help here. You may go, if you like. Just be sure to mind your cousins." Frodo grinned.  
  
"I will. And I promise we'll be back by elevensies." Frodo gave his Uncle a kiss, and went off with Pearl, Nellie, Vinca, and Merry to see the fairgrounds.  
  
On the way there, they spotted Sam on an errand for his mum, and ran up to meet him.  
  
"Hullo Sam!" Called Frodo, waving. His cousins followed close behind.  
  
"Hullo Mr. Frodo!" Called the younger lad, waving back. "Are those your cousins?" Frodo nodded. "Let me introduce you." Sam felt a bit shy at the thought of meeting Tooks and Brandybucks, but smiled anyway.  
  
"Merry, girls, this is my good friend, Samwise Gamgee. Sam, this is Pearl, Nellie, Vinca, and Merry," he said, pointing to each cousin in turn. They smiled back at him, and Sam instantly felt more comfortable around them.  
  
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Sam," said Pearl politely.  
  
"Frodo's said nothing but good things about you...although he seems to be that way in general," Merry mused. Sam laughed, while Frodo playfully pushed his cousin in the shoulder.  
  
After introductions were finished, the group continued toward their destination, Sam now having joined them. As six hobbits rambled through grass that was as green as freshly picked apples, the sun shone with unusual brightness and soft golden warmth. The sky was so clear, it appeared an almost white blue, with no visible clouds, tinkling laughter of hobbit children and the sound of work being for the upcoming Mid-Year's Day festivities being heard all around.  
  
Once they reached the White Downs where the fair was to be held, the results of all the hard work was evident. Wooden booths had been set up as far as the eye could see, and some residents of Hobbiton were getting an early start on theirs'. By the next day, each would house a different attraction, activity, or shop for the Free Fair. The anticipatory excitement was almost palatable.  
  
"Oh, Frodo, the Fair will be so exciting. I can hardly wait till tomorrow," sighed Nellie.  
  
"Neither can I, Nellie-lass. I'm just happy to be back in time to go with all of you," Frodo replied.  
  
"Will you leave us again next year, Mr. Frodo?" Asked Sam quietly. Frodo sighed.  
  
"I don't know, Sam. I suppose it all depends. But we're together now, and that's what matters. Now. Who's hungry? I've brought some snacks for us, since I figured you would be." The cousins and Sam cheered, while Frodo set up the small spread of snacks he had brought in a tiny wicker basket. There were apples, a chunk of cheddar cheese, some dried meats, and a few of Bilbo's favorite toffee's Frodo had managed to smuggle out of Bag End. As the group ate, Frodo told of his exploits in Hobbiton since the adoption to the curious Took lasses, and Sam listened in awe to their stories of adventures at Tuckburough.  
  
*******************************************************  
  
That evening, Bag End was filled with much more noise than usual, as three children, two tweens, and five adult hobbits went about the business of eating, drinking, and merrymaking until sundown. After kissing his aunts, uncles and little cousins goodnight, Frodo headed to Bilbo's study, where the old Hobbit was staying up late; writing. He was aloud to go to bed later, being the oldest there, and relished his special before-bed time with his uncle.  
  
"Hullo Bilbo," he called, stepping into the cozy, deep red room and sitting down in an armchair next to the old hobbit.  
  
"Hullo, my lad. Just finishing up some more of my book, but that's nothing new," said Bilbo, taking a puff of his pipe, "I'm not sure if it will ever be finished," he chuckled, a warm, hearty, sound. Frodo smiled.  
  
"I'm sure you will, Uncle Bilbo," replied his nephew, yawning.  
  
"Get some sleep, lad. Tomorrow is the Fair, and you want to have your energy up."  
  
"All right, Uncle. Goodnight," he yawned again, padding out of the study.  
  
"You deserve a day of carefree fun, my lad," thought Bilbo, as he got back to his writing.  
  
Mid-Year's day dawned with beautiful, but extremely hot weather, weather, much to the delight of the residents of Hobbiton. After quick breakfasts, almost everyone in the town was ready to get up and go to the Free Fair and sample all that there was to see.  
  
As the precession of Hobbits headed out from Bag End they were quickly joined by the Gamgees, who were leaving Bagshot Row. When Frodo spotted May, he quickly swiped off his hat, and smiled, handing it to her.  
  
"A promise is a promise, May-lass."  
  
"Thank you Mr. Frodo!" She cried, giving him a sloppy kiss on a pale cheek.  
  
They were an odd sight walking to the Downs; mixed and matched Tooks, Brandybucks, Gamgees, and Bagginses. But it also looked right, somehow. Bilbo walked next to Frodo, who was carrying May on his slender shoulders as she giggled happily. Goldie and Sam followed close behind, Merry pumping his shorter legs to keep up with them. His Da soon picked him up however, and he laughed as he rode on Saradoc's strong shoulders.  
  
When they finally arrived, the children were surprised to see how much had been set up so quickly. The booths and stands were each set up with different attractions, games, and good things to eat. As Bilbo, Aggie, and the other adults left to explore what interested them, the children spilt up as well. Pearl, Vinca, and Nellie went to look at the handmade dolls, Frodo and Sam went to see the games, and Merry and the other Gamgee children wanted to watch the dancers. They had all planned to meet later for luncheon, and there was every kind of food to choose from. For now, Frodo and Sam were happy just to spend time together.  
  
"Look, Mr. Frodo!" Cried Sam, "There's a lass giving pony rides!"  
  
"You can go over there, if you like, Sam. I'm going to look at these books." Frodo pointed to a stand filled with dusty, leather-bound volumes that was manned by an old, smiling hobbit. Sam nodded, waving and running off.  
  
Unbeknownst to Frodo, however, there was whispering about him in the bushes nearby. Whispering, specifically, coming from one Lotho Sackville- Baggins.  
  
Lotho sat on the dirt and grass covered ground behind the shrubs with two other lads: Milo Boffin, Falco's brother, and Ted Sandyman, the miller's son. Neither considered Lotho a friend in any particular way; he was more of an accomplice in the schemes and pranks the three loved to play. And they were certainly planning one now.  
  
"All right lads, here's the plan," he whispered harshly, and the other two boys leaned in to get a better listen.  
  
"I'm not letting that mad Baggins boy get away with humiliating me at the market. He's going to get his, mark my words."  
  
"That boy looks like a lass," sniggered Ted, and all three laughed.  
  
"So what are we gonna do?" Asked Milo curiously.  
  
"Yeah, what is this brilliant plan of yours?" Wondered Ted. Lotho, with a smug look on his face, began to explain.  
  
"Brandybuck has been cooped up in Brandy Hall since May, you know," Lotho said smugly.  
  
"Why?" Asked Milo. "Doesn't he live with Mad Baggins now?"  
  
"Yes, you cottonbrain. He left because...the plants make him sneeze." The three boys burst out laughing.  
  
"Who's ever heard of a Hobbit that can't be around plants?" Snickered Ted. "Are you serious, Lotho?" The rotund Hobbit lad nodded.  
  
"Trees, flowers, shrubs, everything," Lotho confirmed. "Leaves him red-faced and helpless for hours. It's quite a sight. And that's where my plan comes in. You see..." Lotho lowered his voice to a whisper, and began to detail his idea to his attentive, sniggering companions.  
  
*****************************************************  
  
"Bilbo would love these," mused Frodo, as he examined a pile of poetry books, finally deciding on a slim, deep blue volume. "I think I have just enough coppers to pay for it," he muttered, digging around in his pocket and coming up with seven coins, a wrinkled handkerchief, and a few pieces of lint. Handing the money to the bookseller, Frodo smiled as he wished the lad a pleasant Mid-Year's Day.  
  
"I'm sure it will be, thank you!" Replied Frodo, as he walked off with his purchase.  
  
Wanting to take a quick moment to write something inside the cover to his Uncle, he walked a bit and took a seat under the closest tree. Taking out a quill from his pocket, and dipping it into the tiny bottle of silky black ink he had also purchased, he began to write.  
  
"Dearest Uncle Bilbo,  
Happy Mid-Year's Day, Your Loving Nephew,  
Frodo," he inscriped.  
  
Putting the pen and ink away, he felt a sudden, strong tickle in his nose, and looked up, suddenly noticing that the tree he had been sitting under was practically covered in pink, blooming flowers.  
  
"Silly me," he thought, "Well, I'm done, anyway. I'll just get up and find Sam...he's probably wondering where I've gone off to..." but he never got to do so, because Lotho's portly form came out of nowhere to block his way, the two boys surrounded by the canopy of flowers which had begun to fall.  
  
"Go away, Lotho" muttered Frodo, trying to get up and walk past, but suddenly noticing that two other laughing boys were blocking him as well.  
  
"Not so fast, Brandybuck. If you think you're going to get away with humiliating me at market, you're very wrong." Frodo tried his best to get away, attempting to push past the boys, but to no avail. Although he was a bit taller than Lotho, the three together were stronger, and Frodo couldn't make them budge.  
  
"Lotho, this is ridiculous. Let me go this instant or I'll tell Lobelia about the incident with the rotten apples and the cat," he smirked, trying to remain calm. Lotho simply laughed in his face.  
  
"Shut up, Brandybuck. She'll hardly believe you. Grab his wrists, lads." Ted and Milo did as they were told, taking Frodo's slender wrists and holding them tight enough so that he couldn't escape. If Frodo began to feel a bit scared, he didn't show it, didn't kick or scream or fight back. He simply stood quietly, as the other lads watched him, laughing madly. The wind had picked up, and the blossoms flew around them like a pink snow. The tickling in Frodo's nose had intensified, and he began to sneeze wildly, his blue eyes watering, as Lotho whistled non-chalantly and the two other lads continued their hold.  
  
"Awww. Poor baby. Do you need a handkercheif?" Asked Lotho condisendingly.  
  
"Please, Lotho," Frodo whispered, "I'm...I can't breathe properly. Please let me go." Milo's face softened a bit.  
  
"Let 'im go Lotho. He's gettin' sick, can't you see? We don't wanna hurt him, do we?" Lotho just smiled scathingly.  
  
"He'll be fine," he said breezily. "Probly just is faking it. But this is getting boring, anyway," he continued, looking at the wheezing Baggins as his eyelids drooped. "He'll be conked out in a bit, and we don't wanta get in trouble. Let's go." The other lads nodded, dropping Frodo's wrists and hurrying off after Lotho seconds before Frodo dropped to the ground, moaning. No one heard him, however, and the only sound was the soft falling of pink blossoms as he went unconcious. 


	11. Recovery and Revelations

Chapter Ten---Recovery and Revelations  
  
When Frodo finally came to, he groggily opened his eyes and was surprised to see many familiar faces staring back at him. Bell, Bilbo, Sam were all there. He smiled weakly as Sam rushed over to him and grabbed his hand.  
  
"Thank goodness you're awake, Mr. Frodo! We were worried about you, weren't we, mum?" Bell nodded seriously.  
  
"Aye, that we were. You've gone and gotten yourself a mild sunstroke, Mr. Frodo, not to mention that it looks like your allergies gave you a bit of an attack out there. Whatever were you doin' out under that cherry tree, beggin' your pardon? We searched high and low for you. Sam came to find me at my booth, and told me you were missin'. Mr. Bilbo the rest and me went lookin' for you, and we finally found you under the old tree in the field by the edge of the fairgrounds."  
  
"How...how long have I been asleep?" Asked Frodo groggily, with a thick sniffle in his voice.  
  
"Well, you missed elevensies, afternoon tea, and part of luncheon. So quite a while. Out like a light," Bell replied.  
  
"Could you tell us what happened, my lad?" Asked Bilbo gently as he helped Frodo sit up on the bed where he lay.  
  
"I...I don't remember," he lied, biting his lip. "I'm sorry. I suppose I just dozed off..." Bilbo and Bell exchanged a look.  
  
"That's quite all right, my lad. You can tell us when you're ready." Frodo smiled.  
  
"Where are the others?" He asked.  
  
"Your aunts and uncles went out to get some things at market, and the girls, Merry, and Sam's other brothers and sisters are still at the Fair with the Gaffer. They didn't want to stay after we took you home, they were so upset, but it would have been too much trouble for Bell and I to have them all underfoot while we were caring for you," Bilbo explained.  
  
"But Sam absolutely insisted he come. Told me he couldn't have fun at the Fair without his Mr. Frodo, so here he is," Bell said fondly, ruffling her youngest son's curls.  
  
"Thank you Mrs. Gamgee, and thank you Sam," smiled Frodo. "Although I'm so sorry you all had to miss the Fair, on my account," he sighed. "I feel as if I've ruined Mid-Year's Day for you."  
  
"Nonsense, my dear lad. There will be other Free Fairs, and other Mid- Year's Days. I'm just glad you're going to be all right."  
  
"What's wrong with me, exactly?" Asked Frodo quietly.  
  
"Oh, nothin' serious that a little rest and some good food can't cure. You really need to eat, most of all, and just stay indoors for a bit," Bell replied. "Mr. Bilbo, you'll need to be giving the lad lots of cool things to drink. And no hot foods, I'd suggest. He's a bit overheated and he'll probably have a stuffy head for a while, he was around all that pollen a long time," she continued, with the authority of an expert who'd seen it all. Bilbo nodded.  
  
"How does some blueberry soup sound, Frodo?" Asked his uncle. "And some chilled tea to go with it?"  
  
"That sounds wonderful, Bilbo, thank you. I'm so hungry," he laughed.  
  
"I'd imagine," Bilbo smiled back. "I'll be back in half a minute," he said, giving his nephew's dark, messy head a quick kiss.  
  
Bilbo was true to his word, and he soon returned with a bowl of the cool, creamy, blue soup. Frodo dipped his spoon into it and savored the smooth, refreshing taste happily.  
  
Soon, Frodo was feeling much better and Bell and Sam knew it was all right to take their leave. Hugging them both goodbye, Frodo thanked them for their help.  
  
When the Gamgees were gone, Bilbo sat down on the bed next to Frodo, and his nephew snuggled up next to him.  
  
"My lad, do you want to tell me what happened at the Fair?" Asked Bilbo gently. Frodo nodded and sighed, and in a matter of minutes dispelled the story to his uncle. Bilbo was shocked and angry when he finished.  
  
"Those horrid lads deserves to be punished, Frodo. I'm going to have to tell Lobelia about this, you realize," he said to his nephew. Frodo sighed.  
  
"I suppose..." he muttered. "But she'll turn it around on us, Bilbo, or she won't believe us. And Lotho and his friends won't be punished, I'm sure of it."  
  
"Lobelia will have more important things to be angry about," muttered Bilbo. Frodo looked at him curiously.  
  
"Frodo," Bilbo began, turning to face his nephew fully, "If I was to ever...If anything was to ever happen to me...I have decided to leave Bag End and all of it's treasures to you, my lad. You will be my heir, Frodo."  
  
Frodo stared back at him, face shocked and white. "Bilbo..." he finally started, "Are you sure?" His uncle laughed.  
  
"Frodo, I'm quite sure. More sure than I've ever been about anything."  
  
"Lobelia will be steaming mad," Frodo stated truthfully, causing Bilbo to burst out chuckling again.  
  
"That she will, my lad. But it really doesn't matter to me anymore."  
  
"Me neither," smiled Frodo, as he hugged his Uncle tightly.  
  
*********************************************************  
In a few hours the Fair was over, and Frodo's cousins and friends filed into Bag End, wanting to see if he was all right. Sam and Bell had returned also, as well as Aggie, Esme, Saradoc, and Paladin. Frodo beamed when he noticed they were all carrying packages toward him.  
  
"We figured if you couldn't go to the Fair..." Hal began,  
"We would bring a bit of it to you, Mr. Frodo," Ham finished for him.  
  
Thus began a regular procession of gifts. Ham and Hal went first, presenting Frodo with a large glass jar, filled with water. Inside swam a plump goldfish, blowing tiny bubbles the lad's direction as if to say hello.  
"We won it in horseshoes," Hal explained.  
  
"I won it, you mean," corrected Ham. His brother just shrugged.  
  
"You can name it yourself, Mr. Frodo. But I suggest you call it Ham, because it resembles him quite a bit, don't you think?" Hal suggested. Ham shoved his brother in the shoulder and Frodo burst out laughing.  
  
"I think I'll call it...Hala. That means fish in Elvish, right Uncle?" Bilbo nodded.  
  
"Very good, my boy," Bilbo said with pride in his voice.  
  
Next, Pearl, Pimpernel, and Pervinca presented Frodo with their souvenir. It was a tiny rag doll made of straw that was wrapped in white cloth covering. Dark yarn covered its hair and feet, and two large blue buttons were the eyes. It even had an oversized straw hat on its head.  
  
"It's supposed to be you," explained Nellie. "My friend Peony Millbanks made it. She thought you would like it, and so did we." Frodo chuckled.  
  
"It's brilliant, girls, thank you," he said, smiling as he stared at his tiny counterpart.  
  
Meanwhile, Merry impatiently bounced up and down, finally running past the girls and jumping in his cousin's lap. In his tiny hands he held up a round, sticky object. Frodo peered at it queerly, as gooey sugar dropped off his cousin's fingers.  
  
"It's a caramel apple, Cousin Frodo. Only, I ate a little of it, but I think there is still enough left for you. But you should probably have something to drink afterwards because it is very sticky." Frodo burst out laughing.  
  
"Thank you, Merry-lad. I'll be sure to. It looks postively delicious," he said, gingerly taking the brown, sticky lump of a treat from the littler hobbit.  
  
After that, there was still a pie Bell baked especially for Bilbo and Frodo, a wooden bird from Goldie and Sam that their Gaffer had made, and the kind return of Frodo's hat from May. After the little lass reached up to place it on his head, Frodo promptly removed it and handed it back to her.  
  
"It's yours to keep May, if you like," he smiled. May's face split into a wide grin.  
  
"Really, Mr. Frodo? Oh, thank you!" She cried, giving him a hug. Bell smiled at him, eyes twinkling.  
  
After being released, Frodo remembered the poetry book he had bought for his uncle, and asked Bell if she had found it when she discovered him under the tree.  
  
"Yes, it's right here, love," she smiled, handing him the thin blue volume. Frodo then gave it to his uncle, shyly.  
  
"Happy Mid-Year's Day, Bilbo," he said quietly.  
  
Bilbo examined the book, and grinned. "This is wonderful, my lad. Thank you so very much, Frodo," he said, hugging his nephew.  
  
"It was a happy Mid-Year's Day, indeed." Frodo just smiled back, looking at the family and friends who surrounded him in his new home, and nodded in agreement. 


	12. New Beginnings

Chapter Eleven---New Beginnings  
Before they were to return to Buckland the next day, Bilbo decided to pay a visit to a certain Lobelia Sackville-Baggins. He left first thing in the morning, and made sure not to tell his nephew where he was headed. When he reached the Sackville-Baggins home, he opened the door, not bothering to knock. Lobelia stood in the kitchen, frying bacon in a pan. The smell was inviting and homey, the exact opposite of the hobbit maid who glared at the intruder. She wrinkled her nose in disgust and looked at Bilbo.  
  
"So nice of you to knock. What do you want, then?" She spat.  
  
Bilbo cut straight to the point, standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. "I assume you know the trouble Lotho caused at the Fair, Lobelia. Your son should be punished for what he did."  
  
"I have no idea what you're talking about;" she lied, trying unsuccessfully to appear busy arranging the breakfast table. Bilbo glared at her, and she sighed in resignition.  
  
"Oh, all right. I suppose I do know what you're talking about, but I assure you it was nothing but a harmless prank. Frodo was probably overreacting. Doesn't he pretend to be ill, sometimes? That's what Lotho tells me. He must be desperete for attention." Lobelia didn't turn to look at Bilbo, and he continued to stare angrily at her back.  
  
"Sticklebats, Lobelia. Lotho didn't pull any harmless prank. Frodo was quite ill from his allergies and was barely breathing, when we found him. Lotho and his friends did try to hurt him, and if you ask me, they ALL deserve to be punished. Or do you want Lotho to continue to be a bully like he is?"  
  
Lobelia stared at him now; mouth set in a tight line.  
  
"If what you say is true, I assure you that it wasn't Lotho's fault. But..." her expression softened slightly, "He was quite ill? I suppose I'll look into it." She sighed.  
  
"Thank you," Bilbo replied tightly, knowing this was the best he could get out of her. "But there is one other thing. I have decided to make Frodo the sole heir and porprieter of Bag End. Just thought I'd let you know. Good day!" With that, he closed the door with a smile, as a shocked Lobelia stood staring ahgast, her bacon burning to a blackened crisp.  
  
********************************************************  
The Bagginses spent the remaining weeks of the spring and early summer at Brandy Hall, but before long it was time to return to Hobbiton for good. Despite his minor setback at the Fair, Frodo's health was greatly improving. Days out in the sun and fresh with his cousins and friends had done him worlds of good, as did the close extended family he had to look after him now. Bell had become like a second mother to him, caring for his troubles and scrapes as if he was one of her own. To everyone's amusment, Sam looked after the older lad as well, and the two were rarely seen without one another. They made quite a contrasting pair, the small, earthy lad with his hands constantly in the soil, and the tall, pale tweenager who was more often and not with his nose stuck in a book.  
  
Summer passed quietly, as it often did in Hobbiton. Frodo spent leisurely days lounging, swimming, or exploring with his friends, the newest of which included, much to his surprise, both Falco and Milo Boffin. Both lads had dissolved their previous ill will towards the unusual boy after his scare on Mid-Year's Day, and Milo had immediately admitted to his crime. The punishment for all three boys involved had been harsh, but fair. Even Lotho was punished, quite severly, by Lobelia, which amused Bilbo and surprised Frodo to no end.  
  
When September finally rolled around, Bilbo and Frodo clebrated their first birthday together quietly, by having a delicious picnic in a special spot Bilbo had discovered. Sam came along, and to the delight of both lads, a certain wizard decided to pay them all a visit. Frodo received beautifiul presents from him, many that were Elvish made, and developed an instant bond with the grey wanderer. Sam remained in awe, however, and his younger siblings delighted in hearing his tale of the fateful meeting many times.  
  
By November, things had settled into a pleasant pattern at Bag End. Frodo and Bilbo were growing ever closer, and the large smial was beginning to feel like a true home to the tweenager. Often, Frodo and Bilbo would spend late nights talking together by the crackling hearth flames. On one of these nights, nephew and uncle sat in their usual chair by the fire, enjoying each other's company. Frodo looked strangely sad, however, and Bilbo touched his shoulder gently.  
  
"What's wrong, silme?" He asked quietly. Frodo sighed. "Nothing. And that's just it." Bilbo looked at him curiosuly, and Frodo continued.  
  
"These past months have been wonderful, Bilbo, truly they have. I couldn't have asked for a better home than Bag End. But...I can't help wondering...I know you won't be around forever, Bilbo. And, and, well...I just worry sometimes, that's all. I thought my parents and I would be together, always..." he finished quietly, biting his lip to hold back tears.  
  
"Oh, my dear lad," Bilbo shook his head, "how long has this been troubling you?" Frodo shrugged. "A while, I suppose. Since...since the twenty-fourth."  
  
Bilbo sighed. November twenty-fourth had been the anniversery of Primula and Drogo's deaths. As much as the old hobbit knew of the pain Frodo went through each year on this occasion, he had no idea how much he now worried about losing his new home and Bilbo; his new family.  
  
"My lad, let me reassure you; I will not be gone for a long time yet. And when I am...always remember that we will see each other again, silme. Nothing can separate you and I for long. Bagginses stick together, after all. But, like I said, don't get tired of me yet." Bilbo chuckled warmly, and he felt Frodo's tense shoulders relax. He noticed the boy was crying, but smiling, and hugged him closely as he stroked his dark curls.  
  
********************************************************  
  
When December finally came, all of the children of Hobbiton were delighted with an early snow, soft white flakes covering the smials and houses of the town. Frodo was so excited when he saw it, he ran out of Bag End in his nightclothes, and spun joyously as the powder dusted his face and landed like stars on his dark hair. Bilbo had just woken, and was surprised to see his nephew come in shivering with a smile on his flushed face, not yet dressed.  
  
"My goodness, lad, wait until after breakfast to go out in the snow. Now let's get you by the fire, before you catch a chill." Frodo nodded and laughed.  
  
"I couldn't resist, Bilbo, I'm sorry. It just looked so beautiful blanketing the town like that." Bilbo smiled. "It does indeed, my lad. And you'll have plenty of time to explore later, but how do eggs and sausages sound now?"  
  
"That sounds wonderful, and I'm starving. Snow makes me hungry, I think." Bilbo laughed, and ruffled Frodo's wet hair, as the two walked to the kitchen, following the delicious smells of the breakfast Bilbo had prepared.  
  
After Bilbo finished helping Frodo get toasty warm and dry, they sat down for breakfast and ate in pleasant silence. Frodo gobbled his food down, while Bilbo poked at a juicy sausage and mused to himself. He knew winter was never easy for his nephew. While for most lads and lasses the coming of the season meant sledding, snowball fights, and long nights of snowy exploring, Frodo's winters seemed to consist of an endless barrage of colds, coughs, and flus. Bilbo delighted in seeing his lad happy and much heartier than he had been in the spring, and he wanted Frodo's peace and comfort to last. The lad truly deserved to enjoy himself, after all he had been through.  
  
When breakfast was finished, Frodo helped Bilbo clean up the table. Much to his uncle's dismay, but not surprise, the lad let out a loud sneeze, and looked up, embarrassed.  
  
"Bless you, my lad. I suppose you did catch a chill out there, hmm? How are you feeling?" Frodo tried to appear as chipper as he could, for he dreadfully wanted to play in the snow, but knew he probably was falling ill as his uncle had said.  
  
"Just...just fine, Uncle Bilbo, truly," he lied, sneezing again, which unintentionally disproved his point. Bilbo shook his head.  
  
"I'm sorry, Frodo. If you're falling ill you'll have to stay indoors today." His heart broke when he saw his nephew's face fall, and he sighed.  
  
"I'm sure it's nothing serious, lad, but we can't take any chances..."  
  
"It's always something serious," Frodo interuppted sadly. "But it's all right. I'm used to it." He walked away sadly to his room, and Bilbo shook his head as he heard Frodo sneeze loudly again.  
  
"Why can't it ever be easy for him?" he asked himself quietly, following his nephew down the hall. 


	13. Concerns and Lullabies

Concerns and Lullabies  
  
A/N: "Into the West" belongs to PJ, Fran, and Annie. I no own, they no sue.  
*bows*  
  
Frodo's perdiction proved to be correct. What appeared to be a simple case of sniffles had turned into a nasty chest cold by the next day, and all plans of a snowy afternoon had been cut short as the lad lay miserably in bed, staring out the window at the falling flakes. He was in a foul mood, and try as he might, Bilbo could not cheer him up. He didn't complain, but rarely smiled, sighing occasionally as he watched the others have fun outside. His uncle tried to keep him amused the best he could during the day, playing quiet games with him and reading him Elvish tales from the book Gandalf had given Frodo for his birthday.  
  
During afternoon tea, Bilbo mentioned that Yule was quickly approaching, and Frodo smiled. Yule was one of his favorite holidays, with all of its merrymaking, presents, and festivites. He always looked forward to seeing Merry and his other cousins, as well as his aunts and uncles, over the many trips and visits that would take place. His favorite time of all, however, was when everyone gathered at Bag End for a Yule dinner including Bilbo's famous stuffed goose. This would be the first year he was living there, as well. The first year he would truly be home for the holidays. This though cheered the lad quite a bit.  
  
"Bilbo," he commented, "won't it be fun to go visiting during Yule? It's so soon, I just hope I'm well then." Bilbo smiled, but inside he thought the same thing.  
  
"I'm sure you will be up and about by then," he said cheerfully, and Frodo grinned.  
  
*********************************************************  
Frodo wasn't any better the next day, however, or the day after that. Bilbo did the best he could to care for him, doing everything the healers had told him to do, but the lad only got worse. Finally, he realized he had to consult a real expert, and asked Bell to come see what she could do.  
  
"My, the snow doesn't seem to be letting up a bit! We're in for quite a storm, I think!" Bell exclaimed, as she opened the door of Bag End, and took off her thick woolen cloak and scarf. Pulling her golden, gray- streaked curls back into a sensible bun, she rushed over to where Frodo sat looking small and miserable in the big velvet chair. Wrapped in blankets, he let out a strain of wracking coughs and Bell and Bilbo exchanged worried looks.  
  
"Thank you for coming on such short notice, Bell. I didn't know whom else to ask." Bell smiled.  
  
"Not a problem, Mr. Bilbo, not a problem at all. My little ones are cozy and warm at home with their Gaffer, and they won't miss me for a few hours. Now, tell me what exactly is wrong with the dear lad."  
  
Bilbo sighed, running his hand through his silver hair. "It started as a simple cold, but now he'll barely eat, and you heard his dreadful cough." Bell nodded sadly.  
  
"It's probably the flu, or something of the like. What did the healers tell you?" She asked, as Bilbo handed Frodo some handkercheifs and brushed errant curls out of his flushed face. The lad sneezed loudly, and began to cough wetly. Bilbo rubbed his back in soothing circles until he was through, and Frodo visibly relaxed, sinking into the chair weakly as his eyelids drooped.  
  
"Nothing I couldn't see for myself. They gave me the usual teas and herbs, but nothing seems to be working," he said, the tiniest note of despiration visible in his tone.  
  
"Not to worry, Mr. Bilbo. I think I have a few things that will help, and I'll teach you how to prepare them." She walked over to Frodo and put a rough hand to his forehead, frowning.  
  
"He seems to be running a bit of a fever, sir. I'll run a cool bath, and if you can, set up a comfortable place for him to sleep. He needs his rest." Bilbo nodded, and hurried off, while Bell gently lifted the small boy from the chair, whispering soothing words to him as she carried him off in her arms. He seemed to be partially asleep, but let out strained coughing, trying to say something.  
  
"What is it, love?" Bell asked gently. "Just speak slowly, and then try to rest your voice."  
  
"Thank you, Mrs. Gamgee..." he whispered hoarsely, and she smiled, kissing him on his warm, pale forehead.  
  
*******************************************************  
After Frodo's bath and some teas Bell prepared, he seemed to feel a bit better. Bilbo managed to coax him into eating a few bites of toast with jam, some soft-boiled eggs, and creamy cinnamon custard, before tucking him into bed. Soon Frodo had drifted off to sleep, and Bell and Bilbo stepped quietly out of the room, and walked to the foyer so Bell could gather her things to leave.  
  
"Is he going to be all right, Bell?" asked the old hobbit with concern. Bell sighed, and shook her head.  
  
"I honestly don't know sir. He's very ill, and no mistake. Just keep caring for him the best you can, and make sure you give him the special tea I made every couple of hours. He should get plenty of rest, and whatever soft food he can handle. I'll come back tomorrow if he's worse, just send word."  
  
"Thank you, Bell. You've been incredible help. I'm not used to caring for a lad his age, let alone one who's so ill. Is there anything I can do to repay you?" Asked Bilbo.  
  
"Now, Mr. Bilbo, don't go saying nothin' of the sort. I'll take no payment; I only want Mr. Frodo to get well." Bilbo smiled, and bid Bell goodbye, as she walked out into the snowy evening.  
  
After she left, Bilbo quietly entered his nephew's bedchamber, which had been temporarily moved to the master bedroom. It was cooler there, and easier for Bilbo to hear Frodo if he called. Sitting down next to the tweenager's bed, he noticed the lad was still awake, his blue eyes fever- bright and teary and his body wracked with coughs. He stared at his uncle misrabely, and Bilbo's heart broke in two. Hugging the lad closely, he tried his best to soothe him.  
  
"Shhh, It's all right, silme. You'll be all right. I'm right here." Frodo closed his eyes, and leaned against his uncle's chest, as Bilbo lulled him to sleep with a lullaby his mother sang to him when he was ill as a lad.  
  
"Lay down, your sweet and weary head...  
  
Night is falling, you have come to journey's end.  
  
Sleep now, and dream of the ones who came before.  
  
They are calling, from across the distant shore.  
  
Why do weep? What are these tears upon your face?  
  
Soon you will see, all of your fears will pass away, safe in my arms,  
you're only sleeping."  
  
Bilbo had a surprisingly beautiful singing voice, a trait shared by many of the Bagginses, including Frodo. More than anything, the lad desired to listen to the enchanting singing of the elves he had heard about in so many stories.  
  
When Frodo had finally fallen into a deep sleep, Bilbo gave him a gentle kiss on his feverish forehead and tucked him in, blowing out the candle on his bedside table. He walked to his own room, sitting by his window, looking at the stars.  
  
"I can't lose him. I can't," he whispered to himself, holding back tears. "Not my lad. Not...not my Frodo. He looks so helpless...I don't--I don't know what to do." He sighed, and turned away from the starry scene outside to ready himself for bed. "I only wish I had more help around here. I can't keep asking Bell to come; she has her own family to look after..." his thoughts were cut off by a loud knock. Surprised, Bilbo hurried to the door, doing his best not to wake his nephew. He opened it, yawning.  
  
"Your help has arrived, my dear Hobbit." Bilbo gasped.  
  
In front of him stood Gandalf. 


	14. An Unexpected Visitor, and Unexpected Tr...

Chapter Thirteen---An Unexpected Visitor, and Unexpected News Quotes from ROTK not mine, movie not mine, book not mine, hobbits not mine.  
Oh, noodles. : (  
After overcoming his initial shock, Bilbo ushered Gandalf inside, and fixed a pot of tea. He explained his nephew's illness, and the wizard listened intently, a grave expression on his face.  
  
"I thought as much..." he mused. "There is a particularly dangerous strain of flu going around the Shire that I have heard about in my travels. Most survive, but with Frodo's natural fragility his recovery should be particularly difficult. I think though, that he can pull through. He has a strong spirit, Bilbo. We must remind him he can't give up."  
  
Bilbo shook his head, soaking in the information his old friend was giving him, and a determined look crossed his face. "We must," he agreed.  
  
Gandalf opened a small leather bag, depositing the contents in his weathered hand. It appeared to be some kind of herb of a deep green color, with pointed leaves. It released a pungent scent, and Bilbo had to take a step back so as not to be overwhelmed.  
  
"This is Athelas, or Kingsfoil, as it's more commonly called. It was given to me by a Ranger named Strider. It should help bring down his fever and make the cough less painful. I'll help you make a tea out of it, as well as a compress for his face." Bilbo nodded, and the two quickly set to work.  
  
When they were finished, the pair walked quietly into Frodo's room, where the lad lay in a fitful sleep. He heard their hushed voices, and sat up, beginning to cough again. When he finally stopped, he noticed the grey wizard, and the first real smile Bilbo had seen in ages passed across his face.  
  
"G--Gandalf?" He croaked. "Is that really you?"  
  
"It is indeed, my boy. It is indeed." He sat down in the chair Bilbo had placed next to Frodo's bedside and smiled at the sickly hobbit lad.  
  
"I'm here to help you get well, Frodo. I've brought some herbs that were given to me by a Ranger." Frodo's eyes lit up.  
  
"A real Ranger? Bilbo has told me about them, but I've never met one, myself. What was his name?" Gandalf and Bilbo smiled at the boy's enthusiasm.  
  
"He has many names, but is most commonly called Strider. I told him of you, and he hopes you get well very soon." Frodo smiled.  
  
"Tell him thank you for me," he said hoarsely, his eyelids beginning to droop again. Gandalf let the lad fall gently back to sleep in his arms, and lay him back in his bed.  
  
"Gandalf...You knew Frodo was ill? But...how?" Asked Bilbo, curiously. The wizard just smiled.  
  
"I would have thought by now, you would know not to mettle in the affairs of wizards, my dear Bilbo," replied Gandalf, eyes twinkling.  
****************************************************  
After applying the athelas compresses and making the boy comfortable with fresh, dry bed linens and nightclothes, all Bilbo could do was wait. He sat by Frodo's bedside on what had become a nightly vigil, lulling him back to sleep if he awoke, giving him medicines and teas and soft, comforting words. But Gandalf could tell the old hobbit was about to fall asleep himself, and he knew Bilbo should be relieved from his duties.  
  
"Bilbo," Gandalf whispered, "I will watch Frodo tonight. You need your rest, too. You'll be no help to your lad if you fall ill as well." Bilbo was far too tired to protest, and left the room after giving his nephew a gentle kiss on his forehead.  
  
When Frodo awoke from his fever-dreams, he reached for his uncle's hand, but instead found a larger, rougher one in its place.  
  
"Bilbo? Where's Bilbo?" He cried, looking around the dark room in fevered panic.  
  
"Bilbo is sleeping, my boy, right in the next room. But I'll be here to care for you tonight," the wizard replied soothingly. Frodo relaxed, his head clearing with a sip of the cooling athelas tea, and his eyelids drooped once more.  
  
"Gandalf?" He asked weakly, "do wizards ever fall ill?" Gandalf chuckled a bit under his breath, wiping Frodo's hot brow with a cool cloth.  
  
"No, I don't suppose we do, and that is lucky. You are a very brave lad, Frodo, and I would certainly carry this burden for you, if I could." Frodo smiled, and squeezed the wizard's large hand before drifting into another fitful sleep.  
  
The next few days passed in a blur for the residents of Bag End, and their special visitor. Gandalf continued to assure Bilbo Frodo would recover, but there did not seem to be any change in his condition, and the old hobbit couldn't help but worry. More than anything, though, it was the occasional flashes of fear he saw in the wizard's eyes when he looked at the lad, who seemed to be slowly slipping away from them, that kept him up for many sleepless hours. The happy, carefree hobbit families playing together in the snow seemed to Bilbo to belong to another world entirely.  
  
Gandalf kept a low profile during his stay in Hobbiton, as he had been labeled an official disturber of peace, and knew it quite well. But there was no lack of help from Bilbo's friends and neighbors, and he thanked his lucky stars for he Gamgees. Bell came over as often as he could, helping him cook soft, nourishing meals for the little patient, the Gaffer gave Bilbo many of the best vegetables from his winter cellar, despite protests, and Violet Proudfoot brought over, as soon as she heard the news, all the handkerchiefs the lad would ever need.  
  
The Gamgee children were not allowed to visit Frodo, and needless to say, they were up in arms at the fact. When the news first reached the children of how dreadfully ill he was, Sam had burst into tears, and it took his mother hours to fully console him. No matter how much she wanted to, Bell couldn't tell her children in all honesty that their dear Mr. Frodo would get well, and it broke her heart.  
  
Yule was days away, but as far as Bilbo was concerned all plans any festivities had been cut short. When the first night of celebrations finally rolled around, he awoke to a cry from his nephew's bedroom the likes of which he never heard, and quickly ran there, where Gandalf was already stationed.  
  
When he entered the room, the sight that met his eyes shocked him. Frodo, who had been sleeping reletively peacefully a moment before after a cool bath and sedating drink, now thrashed about in pain, his face coated with a hot sheen, and tears running down his flushed cheeks. He let out a painful strain of coughs that seemed to go on endlessly and tire out his weak body. Gandalf held him still, trying to give him drinks or medicine, but nothing would stay down. He frowned, and turned to Bilbo.  
  
"Bilbo, his fever has spiked quite dangerously. Go set up a steam, with the athelas. Put on a fresh pot of tea, and bring me the leather bag of herbs in my cloak," he ordered. Bilbo opened his mouth to reply, but Gandalf snapped, "NOW!" With such urgency that he hurried off to follow the wizard's orders without a second look.  
  
Meanwhile, Gandalf and Frodo were left alone, and the wizard was beginning to panic.  
  
"I did not realize how gravely ill the lad truly was. If this does not work, we could lose him," he thought, suddenly feeling a strong surge of fatherly affection for the shaking bundle of curls and blankets in his arms.  
  
"It hurts," Frodo coughed. Gandalf stroked damp curls out of his face, shocked at how gaunt the boy appeared.  
  
"I know, my boy," he said simply. "I know."  
  
***************************************************************  
Bilbo did as the wizard said, and before long Frodo was placed back in his bed, slightly calmer, but with his fever still dangerously high. He looked close to death, Bilbo thought, lying in the fresh layers of blankets, clean, oversized nightclothes, and sheets. His face was pale as the linens surrounding him, and his damp black hair stood out in stark contrast. The old hobbit couldn't bear to look in his nephew's eyes, pale, faded blue, and filled with bright fear. Gandalf administered the lad's medicines and applyed more cool cloths to his head, and then the horrible, excruciating waiting began once more.  
  
"Bilbo, I must be truthful with you. The lad may not survive the night," Gandalf said as gently as he could. The hobbit had taken his nephew in his arms and was silently crying, tears running down his cheeks, as he whispered loving words to Frodo to lull the boy back into his fevered sleep. Once Frodo was reletively peaceful once more, Bilbo turned to look at Gandalf; his mouth set in a tight line.  
  
"I can't lose him...I...Is there any hope left, Gandalf, for the lad?  
  
"There was never much hope, my dear Bilbo...just a fool's hope," Gandalf said softly. The old hobbit fell into the wizard's open arms and began to sob.  
***************************************************************  
Around midnight, on what was now the second day of Yule, Bilbo awoke from his usual post beside Frodo's bed to an amazing sight. The lad's flushued face had paled, and he was breathing easily, the pain gone from his delicate features. His uncle gasped, as Frodo opened his eyes, no longer clouded and glassy with fever, and smiled weakly. He hugged his nephew gently, as Frodo whispered softly, "Bilbo...I'm quite hungry. Did I miss supper?"  
  
Bilbo quickly called Gandalf, who had been preparing medicine for Frodo in the kitchen, and the wizard appeared in a flash. When he saw Frodo, weak but lucid, smiled at the wizard, who stood, shaking his head in wonder.  
  
"His fever broke a few minutes ago. I...I couldn't believe it," Bilbo shook his head as well, tired but relieved and happy. Frodo had drifted off again in his arms.  
  
"He will be all right now, Bilbo. But I don't doubt his recovery will be difficult," Gandalf murmurred, stroking dark curls off the lad's pale forehead. "But he will be all right."  
  
Gandalf smiled, noticing that both uncle and nephew were now sound asleep, peacefully. He blew out the candle and left the room. 


	15. Visiting and Happy Endings

Visiting and Happy Endings  
  
I can't believe this is the last chapter of BEB, sans epilogue. Wow. This has been an amazing, hobbity, fun journey, and I thank you all for taking  
it with me. *hugs* Enjoy, everyone.  
  
When the news that young master Frodo was going to be all right reached Number Three Bagshot Row, Sam and his siblings sighed with relief and cheered with delight. Sam noticed the new lines on his mum's face had smoothed, and she appeared to fully relax for the first time in weeks. Every child desperately wanted to visit Mr. Frodo as soon as they could, but Bell knew all six Gamgee lads and lasses at once would be a trifle overwhelming, as the boy was still ill. It was finally decided that, as soon as Frodo was well enough, that Sam could be the first to pay a visit, which everyone agreed was good and fair, as the little lad loved his Mr. Frodo more than anything.  
  
When Sam entered Bag End for the first time in a long while the next week, he found Mr. Bilbo fixing a pot of tea in the kitchen, looking weary but complacent, and very happy to see the little lad.  
  
"Hullo, Samwise," he smiled. "Frodo is resting in his bed. I'm afraid he's still too ill to come out and see you, but you may go visit him, if you like." Sam nodded eagerly, and thanked the old hobbit, as he scurried off to Frodo's bedroom. Bilbo smiled to himself.  
  
"Seeing Sam again will do the lad no end of good," he thought, as he gathered the things for the upcoming afternoon tea.  
  
When Sam reached Frodo's bedroom, he gingerly opened the door, not knowing quite what to expect. He saw the lad lying in the big bed, propped up on pile of fluffy pillows and reading a book quietly. Sam quickly rushed over, and Frodo's face lit up in sheer delight.  
  
"Oh, Sam. My dear Sam!" He cried. "I've missed you *so* much." Sam leaned up to give the tweenager an enormous hug, trying to be as gentle as he could. Getting a good look at Frodo, he was inwardly shocked at how much paler and thinner his master had become, shadows visible under his large blue eyes, which stood out even more on the chalk white face. His delicately pointed nose was beet red, and his gaunt cheeks slightly flushed. Sam also noticed large piles of fresh and used handkerchiefs, storybooks, and an assortment of nasty looking herbs and medicines surrounding the large bed. He inwardly remembered how worried he had been, and looked up at his friend earnestly.  
  
"Mr. Frodo, I'm so glad you're all right. All of us were worried sick, and I was afraid...I was afraid..." The tiny lad didn't finish before he started to cry, embarrassed to be causing Frodo any more trouble, when he noticed the lad soothing him and drying his tears with one of the many handkerchiefs surrounding them.  
  
The boys spent what seemed like hours sharing the thoughts and fears they had had for each other, both feeling a new sense of relief and closeness. Sam, much to Frodo's amusement, took quickly to playing nurse, and tried his best to make sure his beloved friend was comfortable and content. He worried, as every once and a while, Frodo would let out a dreadful hacking cough and seemed to be in pain, although he assured Sam it was nothing to worry about.  
  
"Mum told me Mr. Gandalf was *here* at Bag End! Is it true?" Sam asked, eyes wide and face bright with curiosity.  
  
"Yes," said Frodo with a hint of wistfulness, "He was here, but I'm afraid I don't remember much of his visit. I was very ill those days, Sam, although I wish I could tell you all about him. He did give me this, though, the night before he disappeared," he continued, pointing to the long, silvery scarf wrapped around his slender neck. "I'm supposed to return it when I see him again. I believe it was his way of saying goodbye, which I don't think wizards often do," he contemplated. Sam smiled and nodded in agreement.  
  
Very soon, however, Frodo began to grow a bit weary, and Bilbo gently explained that he was still quite ill, and needed his rest. Sam got ready to leave, a bit sad at having to say goodbye so soon, and gave his friend a parting hug that was greatfully accepted.  
  
"Goodbye, Sam. It was so wonderful to see you again. I can hardly wait until I'm up and about, and we can finally play in the snow," said Frodo, "I'll be better soon, won't I, Uncle Bilbo?" He asked hopefully. Bilbo tried to disguise the sadness in his eyes.  
  
"I'm sure you will, my lad," he lied, ruffling Frodo's already sleep- toussled curls. Sam smiled in delight, before bidding the two Bagginses a final goodbye and heading out into the winter afternoon.  
*****************************************************  
  
The next few weeks were difficult for Bilbo and his nephew. Frodo was still quite weak, and although his fever was gone, a nasty cough and cold remained. Bilbo had his hands full taking care of him, but did not complain or mind a bit. He was simply happy his lad was still with him, and more than ever, he tried to remember what Bell had told him: "That boy loves you more than anything. You're all he has. Try not to dwell on the future. Enjoy every moment you have with Frodo."  
  
"Uncle Bilbo?" Frodo began one day, while the two sat in their usual chair by the fire. Frodo was feeling better that day, so Bilbo let the lad wander about a little, as he had been bedridden for so long. Soon he had tired out, however, and curled up with Bilbo comfortably.  
  
"What is it, my lad?" Bilbo replied.  
  
"I was just thinking...our first year together is almost over, and it's so hard to believe! To think, this time last year I was at Brandy Hall and we were finally starting to take down the Yule decorations..." Bilbo smiled, but Frodo's face fell a bit at the thought of Yule, which he had all but missed this year. His uncle noticed, and an idea began to form in the old Baggins's head.  
  
"Yes, my lad, this has been a wonderful year, for the most part," Bilbo replied.  
  
"I'm just sorry I was ill for most of it. It must have been such a nuisance for you..." mumbled Frodo sadly, under his breath. Bilbo heard him, and squeezed the boy's shoulder.  
  
"It couldn't be helped, my dear lad, and was no nusicence at all." He noticed Frodo looked sad, and he hugged the boy tightly. "Don't let it trouble you. I'm so happy you're here at Bag End with me, silme, and I wouldn't change anything that has happned for the world." Frodo smiled broadly.  
  
"Neither would I."  
  
***************************************************************  
When Frodo was asleep that night, Bilbo began to put his plan into action. Hurrying to the market in secret and getting everything ready, with the help of the Gamgees, he was soon ready to show Frodo the surprise. When the boy awoke from an afternoon nap the next day, Bilbo stood in the doorway, smiling.  
  
"Good afternoon, Uncle," Frodo said, stretching and yawning. He noticed Bilbo had a barely conceled expression of mirth in his blue eyes. "What is it?" Asked the tweenager curiously, as he got out of bed.  
  
"You'll see in half a minute, my lad. Come along, now." Frodo took Bilbo's hand, and the two Bagginses, both excited, walked toward Bag End's main foyer.  
  
When they entered, Frodo let out a loud, amazed gasp. The whole room was decorated in the grandest Yule fashion, with boughs of deep green and blood red holly, ivy, and beautiful winter shrubs wrapped around every corner, nook, and piece of furniture. Two beautiful winter wreaths hung, one on the door, and one adove the fireplace. Smells of cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves drifted from the kitchen, where, to Frodo's delight, he discovered the Gamgee family sitting around the table in anticipation for his appearence, and noticed Bell was preparing all his favorite holiday foods. He was soon engulfed in an enormous hug from the six children, and he grinned at Bilbo in delight.  
  
"Did you plan...all of this?" He asked in amazement, while continually being surrounded by bouncing, excited lads and lasses. His uncle nodded.  
  
"With a lot of help from the Gamgees, here. I didn't think it was fair for you to miss Yule, my lad, simply because of how ill you'd been. So, we decided to have it a bit late." Frodo's smile split his face, and he appeared happier than Bilbo had seen him in ages.  
  
Soon the group sat down to the amazing feast that had been prepared, the centerpiece being, to everyone's delight, Bilbo's famous goose. There was a myraid of other delights, as well, including fresh mulled cider, baked apples, and a creamy, buttery heap of mashed potateoes, half of which was eaten in a flash by Ham and Hal. Everyone talked, laughed, sang, ate, and generally made merry long past the end of the meal itself. Frodo had to admit, he felt better and happier than he had in a long while.  
  
Later, when the ten hobbits sat together by the fire, with snow falling peacefully outside, Frodo sighed happily.  
  
"Thank you. All of you...this has been so wonderful. I couldn't imagine a better Yule if I tried." Bilbo grinned back at the lad micheviously.  
  
"You haven't even opened your presents yet, my lad!" He said. Frodo gasped.  
  
"But...I didn't get presents for any of you...It wouldn't be right," he frowned.  
  
"Frodo-love, I think that can be excused this year," said Bell gently, sqeezing his hand. He smiled back at her warmly.  
  
"All right then," he said. "But I promise, come next Yule you will all have the very best gifts in the whole Shire."  
  
********************************************************  
Sundown finally came, and it was already well past Sam and the girls' bedtime. Ham and Hal begged to be allowed to stay later because they were older, but their pleas fell on deaf ears. After many hugs and goodbyes, the large smial was almost empty again with only Frodo and Bilbo remaining. The remains of the celebration surrouned them: ribbons, papers, decorations, and the crumbs that were the last remaining signs of the feast. Frodo was quickly growing tired, and Bilbo noticed his coughing and sneezing had started up again. Soon the tweenager was snugly tucked in bed, looking content and happy.  
  
"Thank you, so much, for everything, Uncle Bilbo. This is the best home I could have asked for," Frodo said, yawning. Bilbo just hugged him tightly, and gave him a kiss goodnight, before getting up to leave.  
  
"It's not a problem, my lad. Bagginses need to stick together, after all." Bilbo said. As he closed the door gently, he noticed his nephew grin, and smile that reached all the way to his blue eyes.  
~FIN~ 


	16. The Last Adventure

Epilogue Dedicated to PJ, Fran, Phillipa, Ian, and Elijah...for giving me the keys  
to unlock this world. :)  
A/N: Thank you to all my wonderful reviewers...  
You all mean more to me than you know. *big hugs* Thank you for taking the journey with me. :D *******************************************************************  
Frodo and his Uncle sat on the white, sandy shores of the Lonely Isle peacefully as they watched the silver blue tide roll in and out. Bilbo's head was gently rested on his beloved nephew's shoulder, and Frodo smiled at him fondly.  
  
Ever since their arrival to the Blessed Land, both Bagginses had undergone a change for the better. No longer did Frodo's wounds trouble him, and no longer was he prey to frequent illness or pain. His face was full of peaceful happiness now, and his blue eyes shone with the inner light those who loved him treasured so much.  
  
Bilbo's change was subtler, but just as wonderful. He was a very old hobbit now, and before he had left for the white shores of Valinor he could feel it in his bones and mind. He fell asleep often, and was beginning to become even more absentminded, forgetting small things, which was quite an annoyence to be sure. He could feel himself beginning to sleep through life, in a peacful lull. But now, in the blessed lands, he felt the spark return to him, the clarity of mind he had so missed. He felt as young as Frodo in body and spirit, although he did not look it at all.  
  
But he now felt that although he was happier than he had ever been, his time was soon coming to an end. Bilbo had known this since the day he borded the ship, but had kept the knowlage from his nephew, as they simply enjoyed their time together. But it was time for his dear silme to know.  
  
"Frodo, my lad," he said softly, "I must tell you, my time is almost spent." He squeezed his nephew's pale, four-fingered hand gently, and Frodo looked at him with the same heartbreaking eyes he had always known.  
  
"But...Uncle Bilbo...the elves are here, and Gandalf said you have many years yet to heal...and, and...I just don't want to be alone..." he finished quietly, feeling ashamed and forlorn. "I love you, Uncle Bilbo," he whispered.  
  
"Oh, my dear boy," he said sadly, "My dear Frodo. You are so very, very brave, my lad. I am so proud of you." Bilbo touched gently a cheek that had never fully regained its color. "But my part of the tale is done Frodo. I must go on, now. But we will see each other again, silme. Nothing can seperate us Bagginses for long." Frodo smiled, his eyes filling with tears.  
  
"I...I know. I won't be selfish...I just...," he sighed. "I'll miss you, so much, uncle. It won't be the same without you here with me." Bilbo looked deeply into Frodo's earnest eyes, seeing sadness, but also the deep peace and healing that had occured. He smiled, with a twinkle in his own blue eyes.  
  
"I'll miss *you*, my lad, so, so much. But I must walk this road alone, now. My last adventure is over." Frodo nodded, and gave his Uncle a gentle kiss on his wrinkled forehead. Bilbo smiled.  
  
"Keep an eye on that wily old wizard for me, silme. You never know what tricks he might be up to," the old hobbit said, resting gently once more in his nephew's arms, as his eyelids drooped. Frodo nodded, and smiled sadly. "I will," he replied.  
  
"I love you so much, my lad," whispered Bilbo, as he fell into his final sleep. Frodo held him gently, his sobbing mingling with the sound of the ocean waves. Suddenly, he felt a strange calm come over him, and looked at the old hobbit's face. He was smiling. And suddenly Frodo realized, through the tears, he was too.  
  
"Goodnight, Uncle Bilbo", he whispered, as he watched the moon rise over the great silver sea. 


End file.
